


Adequately Concealed

by optimisticpizza



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-05-04 04:00:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5319644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/optimisticpizza/pseuds/optimisticpizza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex Morgan and Tobin Heath’s friendship cannot be broken, and they intend to keep it that way—whatever the cost may be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The New Kid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Alex meets Tobin Heath.

**Adequately Concealed**  
**~Chapter 1~**  
**“The New Kid”**

 

* * *

 

   “Bzz bzz bzz bzz!”

   Alex Morgan groaned loudly as she listened to her alarm clock buzz in her ear, its pitch increasing by the second. Rolling over with some difficulty, the twelve-year-old girl slammed her fist down on the machine, effectively silencing it. After treating herself to just a few more seconds of relaxation, she began to wriggle underneath her bed sheets, trying to free herself from the place she longed to stay but knew she could not. Slowly she pulled herself to a sitting-up position. The seventh-grader rubbed her sleepy eyes and peered around the room, blinking to adjust her vision to the morning light that was then seeping through her window. Her eyes swept across her bedroom, mapping out where she needed to go and what she needed to do in the next few minutes. When her gaze finally left the closet and fell upon an already-packed black and hot pink duffel bag, her posture immediately straightened itself as she perked up, realizing what the day held for her. Although she was quite dismayed that it was the first day of the new school year, she felt her mood gradually shift from “Uuugh. . .” to “Yes!!!”

   With renewed and abundant energy, Alex hopped gleefully out of bed and quickly dressed herself in a pair of purple running shorts and a white golf polo, both Nike brand, her favorite. Grabbing both her school backpack and duffel bag, the blue-eyed brunette waltzed down the stairs and into the kitchen, where her mother was pouring maple syrup onto a plate of freshly-heated waffles. Pam Morgan passed the plate to her youngest daughter, Alex, who graciously accepted the prepared breakfast after setting down her bags. Several moments later, Alex’s two older sisters rambled into the room and began to eat their waffles, too.

   “Ready to go?” Pam asked Alex after she had rapidly finished her breakfast, who only nodded an affirmative on her way out the door, backpack slung across her left shoulder, duffel bag in hand.

   The young girl opened the door to the van and tossed her burdens in, then turned around and stole a glance down the street. Staring back at her was a boy of her own age who was also readying for departure to Diamond Bar Middle School, the same school as Alex. He flashed a quick smile and nodded his head at her in acknowledgement. She smiled back and waved briefly. The two neighbors had a history of hanging-out, but their frequent study or soccer training sessions had ended roughly a year ago when the pair began attending middle school and developed a disease known best as “cooties.” Once it had been found socially unacceptable for the boy and girl to be seen together so often, their friendship had gradually grown apart until it barely existed.

   “I kind of miss Servando.” Alex sighed to herself as she watched the seventh-grade boy, whose attention had turned away from the girl down his street, run a hand through his short black hair.

   “He’s only gotten cuter, right?” Alex gave a start at hearing her sister’s voice sneak up from behind. Blushing hard, she turned around to face the older girl.

   “Well? Hasn’t he?” Jeni demanded, a smirk widening across her face.

   “Servando? Um, ahhh. . .” Alex stuttered. Her hand moved to scratch her neck, a sure indicator of how nervous she was. She was saved from having to answer, however, as Pam and Jeri emerged from the Morgan residence. Loading the van, the quartet drove off toward Diamond Bar Middle School.

   “Have a good day, dear!” her mother called to her from inside their car. “Text me when soccer tryouts are over so I can come pick you up.”

   “Thanks, Mom,” Alex said, waving as she watched the Morgans drive down the street to drop off her two siblings at the high school.

   Sighing, she turned around and began her ascent up the steps toward the school’s entrance. Among the many groups of adolescent boys and girls standing around, the brunette spotted a group of three particular girls standing underneath a wide oak tree. She instantly recognized two of them, Lauren Cheney and Amy Rodriguez, two eighth-graders who had played for the school’s soccer team last year, but her vision of the third was obscured by Lauren. Another eighth-grade soccer player zoomed up to the trio from behind Alex, causing her hair to rustle in the newly-formed wind.

   “Hey, girls!” She immediately began chatting with the group under the oak.

   “Hi, HAO,” replied Amy. She tilted her head toward the fourth girl. “This is Tobin Heath. She’s new here. Tobin, this is Heather; we call her HAO, often.”

   Alex found her pace slowing down as she walked by the older girls. _Tobin,_ she thought to herself, _that’s a weird name._ Cautiously she risked a couple of quick glances at the group, straining to listen in on their conversation. The fourth, unknown girl was steadily coming into view for her.

   “Hey, Tobin!” HAO greeted the new girl enthusiastically. “Heather O’Reilly.” She offered her hand to the girl.

   “Hi, Heather; it’s nice to meet you,” Tobin replied, shaking hands with O’Reilly.

   As Alex moved past the group, she witnessed a large grin from Tobin to Heather that caused her to almost stop dead in her tracks. The girl’s white teeth carried a near-blinding affect, shaking Alex to the core. Her smile was warm and friendly, almost urging the seventh-grader want to walk up and introduce herself, also. But Alex treaded onward to find her new locker inside the school.

 

* * *

 

 

   Alex felt her body stiffen in her chair in an attempt to refocus her attention. Muttering to herself, she wished in vain that World History had not been the first class of her school day; however, it would continue to be so for the next several months.

   A sigh of relief escaped the brunette’s lips as the bell rang, signaling the end of first period. Dismissed from their classes, the young adolescents shuffled their way into the hall, where they sought their lockers. Alex found herself a couple of steps away from last year’s locker before realizing that she had a new one this year. She continued on down the hallway until finding her new locker and retrieved her algebra textbook, replacing it with her history books. Then she made her way to the next classroom, where the teacher was writing a couple of easy practice problems and the steps to solve them on the board. She took a seat in the far left corner, opened her book to page one, and waited patiently as her fellow schoolmates lazily filed inside.

   Although Algebra 1 was typically an eighth-grade class, Alex’s above-average arithmetic skills had placed her a full grade-level above most of the seventh-graders. She did, however, recognize Servando Carrasco, Ashlyn Harris, and Carli Lloyd, three equally-advanced students with her in this second period class. As Alex’s gaze searched the filling room to identify the kids around her, she caught sight of her best friend, twelve-year-old Kelley O'Hara, who carelessly dropped her textbook onto the desk immediately to the right of Alex and plopped herself into the chair.

   “Al!” she exclaimed, her eyes bright and mouth smiling widely.

   Startled at the loud noise, Alex jumped in her seat. “Kel! Don’t scare me like that,” she mockingly complained.

   “Teaches you to always be on the lookout for your best friend,” her slightly shorter companion snubbed. Alex gave her an eye-roll. “So,” a bubbly Kelley continued, “excited for tryouts today?”

   “You know I am,” Alex replied happily, emotion flickering across her face. It was what both young ladies had been waiting for ever since the spring season had let out. “You?”

   “I’m nervous,” Kelley said, running her hand through her as she did so frequently. Then, she dropped her voice a little lower and peered around the room. “Those eighth-graders are fierce, Al.”

   Alex shrugged. “They may be reigning division champs, Kel, but don’t forget that our sixth-grade team last year went eight, one, and one. They’re only one year older than us.” The twelve-year-old appeared calm on the outside, but on the inside, she was just as nervous as Kelley.

   Kelley bit her lip as they gazed in unison toward Lauren Cheney, Becky Sauerbrunn, and Abby Wambach, three eighth-graders who had excelled on the field for their school last year. Alex and Kelley sat quietly in their seats and observed the room full of thirteen-year-olds casually interacting with each other. Movement in the doorway caused Alex’s attention to turn toward the last person to enter the room. Her heart stopped when she saw that it just so happened to be the new girl, Tobin Heath. Alex couldn’t help but stare at her as she walked to the last empty seat and sat down one row ahead of her and three chairs to the right. Kelley looked back at Alex and, seeing her mesmerized, traced her pal’s gaze to Tobin.

   “I think she’s new here,” Kelley subtly commented after a long, uncomfortable silence between the two friends. “Has a funny name. . . Toby, or something?”

   “Tobin Heath,” Alex quietly replied. “I saw her talking with Lauren, Amy, and Heather before school started.”

   “Oh, wow, she’s already made some friends? Good for her.”

   Alex only nodded her head in agreement. Kelley, frustrated that her companion was in a daze, sighed deeply and faced the front of the room. After a few seconds’ pause, she turned back to make another comment, but the bell rang abruptly. The teacher greeted his students and then proceeded to explain the fundamentals of algebra.

   “So we see that if we subtract five from this side and add it to the other side, x equals six,” he rambled. Most of the class didn’t care to pay attention to him because they had already learned how to solve simple equations long ago. Kelley looked over to her left and noticed Alex staring ahead, concluding that her best friend was awfully absorbed in the boring lecture. However, after a couple more seconds of scrutinizing, she realized that Alex’s gaze still rested on the new girl, Tobin.

   “Alex,” she whispered. “What are you looking at?”

   “Hmm?” a zoned-out Alex responded, unaware of the question that she had been asked.

   “Al, what are you looking at?” Kelley asked. When she didn’t get an answer, she repeated herself yet again, her voice a little harsher.

   “Miss O'Hara, is there something you wish to share with the class?” the teacher questioned.

   Alex snapped back into focus and turned toward Kelley, along with the rest of the class. Kelley froze and turned her attention back to the lecture. “No sir,” she responded, blushing.

   “Good. As I was saying. . .” The teacher continued, and soon the rest of their classmates resumed listening. Kelley shot Alex a look that said, “Really?” But to her dismay, there was no effect, as Alex had already focused back onto the new girl.

   Just under an hour later, the bell rang again, signifying the end of the second period. Immediately Kelley shot up out of her chair, ready to leave. As she headed for the door, she looked over toward Alex to see if her best friend was following, but grew even more miffed at the girl who continued to stare at Tobin. Kelley stomped over toward Alex and snapped her fingers in her face.

   “Al, really?” she asked harshly.

   “What, Kel?” Alex responded as she stood up, still lethargic.

   The shorter girl ran her hand through her silky brown hair and let out a deep sigh. She cautiously looked over at the new kid. Tobin Heath leaned against her desk with her arms crossed in a casual manner, soaking in every word of the fast-paced conversation between Cheney, Sauerbrunn, and Wambach about the women’s soccer game last night.

   “Let’s go,” Kelley said softly. She reached the doorway before realizing that she lacked her follower. But when she turned around to motion to Alex to continue walking, she found her buddy moving toward the small group.

   Clutching her textbook tightly to her chest, the brunette slowly made her way over to the four eighth-grade soccer players. As she drew closer, Alex was thankful that they didn’t pay her any attention. She slipped into the space between Lauren and Becky as nonchalantly as possible, careful not to display her nervousness.

   “And when the ref pulls out that yellow?” Wambach continued to ramble to the other girls.

   “That was definitely bogus,” Cheney agreed. “It was no worse than what they did against us not five minutes ago.”

   “Referees, man. What can you do?” Abby smiled an unbelieving smile and folded her arms, leaning against a desk in the same relaxed manner as Tobin next to her.

   “Don’t yell at them,” Sauerbrunn replied in a sarcastic tone pointed at the tallest girl.

   “Two minutes later. . .” Lauren added for her.

   “Referee! Referee! Did you see that?” Becky blasted.

   “Oh geez,” Abby rolled her eyes, laughing along with the group.

   “I think I almost spit out the water I was drinking when Mia sent that last one in,” Alex cut in, eager to make her presence known. Suddenly four pairs of eyes turned onto the newcomer. She felt like shrinking. But Morgan held both her ground and her smile. Alex looked toward Heath, whose soft smile reassured her.

   “I would have, too, if I had been drinking anything,” Tobin added, immediately comforting the youngest girl by inviting her into their conversation. A short silence ensued as the five young ladies stared at the ground, smiled, and laughed awkwardly. Then, from across the room, Kelley audibly cleared her throat.

   Lauren checked the clock on the wall. “Oh. Becky, we probably ought to head over to history.”

   “Right behind ya.”

   The two girls shuffled out of the classroom past an impatient yet quietly watching and waiting Kelley. For just a little longer, the remaining threesome continued to glare hard at the ground. Abby looked at her wristwatch and sighed.

   “Onto the next one, right?” Tobin and Alex nodded their heads and smiled self-consciously. As she straightened up to walk away, Abby clapped the new girl on the back. “I’ll see ya at tryouts later, Heath?”

   “Definitely,” came the strong and deep reply. With that, the taller eighth-grader strode out of the room.

   Deciding that she had waited long enough, Kelley crossed over to her best friend. “Alexandra Morgan, I swear, if you make me late for the next class. . .”

   The youngest girl snapped back into reality at the harsh tone of O'Hara. “Sorry, Kel,” she replied. Tobin flashed them a grin and a slight wave. Happily, Alex returned the smile and wave, while Kelley gave a brief smile before turning and leaving, this time with Alex in tow.

   Morgan trudged down the hall after her near life-long friend with a giddy, unmovable smile brightening her face. Although Kelley noticed the distinct change in her, she pretended not to as they walked side-by-side toward science class.

   While sitting in the rest of her classes, Alex paid only half her attention and probably half the required attention to the lessons. Instead, images of the new, tan-skinned eighth-grader floated into her head, causing her to lose focus easily. She wasn’t sure what it was about the girl that intrigued her. Perhaps it was her delicate, warm smile or her squinty hazel eyes. Maybe it was her mannerisms. The way she conducted herself; her posture, so comfortable and at-ease. Whatever it was, it never left Alex’s train of thought throughout the day. All day long she found herself constantly on the lookout for this new girl—while passing in the hallway or at lunch. Not once did she ever see Tobin Heath alone; she was always with Lauren, Heather, or Amy. When eye contact was made, Tobin and Alex exchanged smiles before quickly averting their gazes. The younger managed to sneak in several glances at the older across the room during lunch, but not enough to irritate Kelley, who continued conversing next to her as though she had Alex’s full attention.

   As school let out, Alex pressed herself tightly against her locker, trying desperately to avoid the slew of middle schoolers trampling down the hallway and out the door. When she caught sight of her freckle-faced friend pushing her way towards her, the blue-eyed brunette withdrew what she needed from her locker. Shoving everything into her backpack, Alex greeted her eccentric comrade.

   “Hey, Kel—ready to go?” she asked, slinging her pack onto one shoulder.

   Fiercely Kelley gripped the straps on her own backpack. She gritted her teeth. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

   With the hallway crowd thinning out, the duo made their way toward the girls’ locker room outside the soccer field. On the way they merged with Ashlyn Harris, Sydney Leroux, and Megan Rapinoe, three seventh-graders who were equally excited and anxious for soccer tryouts. Once they arrived at the locker room, they traded school books for soccer gear. Alex pulled off her golf polo, slipped on a t-shirt, and headed out onto the pitch. Joining six other players, they began solo stretching. Alex, along with Megan, was in the middle of the flamingo stretch when she spotted the four eighth-graders who had seemed to be sticking together for the majority of the day.

 _Oh, yeah,_ Alex thought to herself, mentally facepalming. _Abby had mentioned something about tryouts to Tobin earlier. Hmm. Well, this ought to be interesting._ Butterflies danced in her stomach although she wished they wouldn’t.

   Alex and Kelley hopped next to Shannon Boxx, Meghan Klingenberg, Christen Press, and Christie Pearce, who were in the middle of various stretches. Soon, the small group was joined by Ashlyn, Sydney, Megan, Becky, and Abby. Trickling in came Ali Krieger, Carli Lloyd, and Hope Solo. Last to show up were Lauren, Tobin, Heather, and Amy.

   Alex felt her heart unwillingly skip a beat as she watched the four eighth-graders join the rest of them in on-field stretches. The way they trotted onto the field in unison, laughing at a private joke shared between them by HAO, gave her a slight tinge of jealousy.

   “Butterfly stretch!” Abby called gleefully after a few more minutes of solo stretching.

 _Butterflies,_ Alex mumbled to herself. Much to her chagrin, her stomach had begun to churn with them. _Pleeease stop,_ she silently begged of it, though it didn’t change a thing.

   Instantly the players on the field sank to the vibrant green grass, seating themselves onto the ground. With their feet tucked together and drawn tightly to their bodies, the girls’ long legs folded on either side, giving the impression of two wings. From across the circle, Alex observed Tobin struggle to grasp her cleats together and pull them toward her while giggling at an off-handed comment by Lauren. The seventh-grader unintentionally let a broad smile creep across her face.

   “What’s so funny, Al?” Kelley leaned over and asked with a lifted eyebrow. In response Alex nodded her head toward the group across the circle from them. Relieved that it wasn’t anything big, Kelley’s features relaxed slightly. But as her mind processed this, her brow crinkled again in puzzlement, and she once again absentmindedly ran a hand through her dark hair. Although she was all-for Alex making new friends, she couldn’t see what made her best bud obsess so much over the new girl. To Kelley she seemed nice, but then again, they had only seen her from a distance. The shorter girl resolved not to make any judgement calls. Still, the way Alex stared at Tobin was a bit of a mystery.

   While the soccer players continued to stretch out their muscles, their coach walked up, staring at the clipboard in her hand. Once the girls finished their stationary stretches on the ground, she signaled for Abby to line everyone up across the face of the goal, where the team co-captain of last year led the rest of the athletes through a few more stretches and some jogging. After that was accomplished, the coach blew her whistle. The players gathered around her.

   “Hi, everyone! Most of you eighth-graders should know me from last year, but for those who are new to this team, I’m Coach Tracy. I’d like to thank all of you for coming out today and trying-out for this team. To start out, I want you all to pair up. Grab a ball and start passing about ten yards away; work on controlled passes and trapping it when it comes to you before you pass it back.”

   At that the girls broke off. Kelley looked over toward Alex with the intent of partnering with her, but her buddy had already begun making her way toward Tobin. _Should’ve guessed,_ Kelley muttered to herself. She waited for the crowd to clear before pulling out a ball and tossing it from hand to hand, looking around to see who else didn’t have a partner. When she saw that the only other person was eighth-grade goalkeeper Hope Solo, the best middle school keeper in the entire state, she cringed slightly and made a face. _Uh-oh,_ Kelley thought. _She surely won’t want to kick with me._ But Hope caught her glance and flagged her down with a friendly smile on her face. Begrudgingly, Kelley moved over to be in-line with the tall girl and plopped her ball down. She wound up and sent the ball several yards wide of Hope.

   “Sorry!” she called, blushing.

   “No problem,” the older girl replied with her head down, sticking her thumb up as she chased the fast-moving ball across the field.

   Meanwhile, Alex sent a perfect pass rolling straight for her partner. Satisfied, she smiled. The younger girl had been nervous in asking Tobin if she would pair up with her, figuring that she would already be taken, but the older girl had just grinned, saying, “Sure thing.”

   Tobin trapped the ball by placing her left foot on top of it. Then, she kicked it swiftly back to Morgan. Alex stopped the line-drive pass with ease and responded with a pass in the air. The older girl moved to let it slide down her thigh upon contact, her focus never straying. After about ten minutes of passing, Coach instructed them to scoot back to twenty yards. Then, thirty yards. Diligently, the two continued to pass back and forth, as did the other groups.

   A few more minutes and several wild passes across-field from many of the girls later, each pair moved in closer to work on “knock-downs,” where one partner tossed the ball at the other, who had to settle the ball. Alex looked on with awe at Tobin’s total command over any ball that came near the girl. The seventh-grader’s settling skills were not as polished and refined as Heath’s, but they were still admirable. Although it didn’t happen often, Tobin laughed when Alex wouldn’t get to a header in time and utterly miss the ball. Unashamed, Alex joined in. Of course she wanted to try her best to impress the older girl, but both knew she was far from Abby when it came to headers.

   About an hour in, Coach blew her whistle, signaling a water-break. No one was quite exhausted yet, but all knew the importance of hydration. Besides, Coach promised that the intensity would be kicked-up in the next hour.

   Alex jogged over to the bench alongside Tobin. Giving her a high-five, Morgan smiled over at the new girl.

   “You are amazing at ball handling,” Alex commented, wide-eyed.

   “I guess I’m all right,” Heath replied humbly, grinning.

   “You’re more than all right,” said Wambach, walking up from behind. She slapped Tobin on the back as she passed by. “I think you’re way better than me.”

   “And when Abby Wambach says that, she’s saying a lot,” Megan butted-in, grinning. When Abby playfully lurched for her, she ran away to the other side of the bench. The taller girl shook her head and walked over to Christie and Hope, leaving Alex and Tobin together. Noisily they sipped from their water jugs, but silence was mostly dominant between the two. Alex winced as her stomach danced. _Just kill it already,_ she thought. Exhaling a deep breath, she rubbed her palm across her forehead to wick away the sweat that had formed. Morgan stole a glance at Heath, who stood next to her, staring off into space and hoisting her water jug to her lips every now and then.

   “So, uh. . .” Alex began nervously. Tobin looked over and gave her a cheeky smile, wordlessly encouraging her to continue. “New here?” she sputtered out.

   “Yeah,” Tobin replied coolly. _Wow. . ._ thought Alex, who saw no confidence issues in the older girl. “Moved here this summer. From Basking Ridge. Dad got a job transfer.”

   “Basking Ridge? Don’t think I’ve heard of that before.”

   “It’s in New Jersey,” she informed matter-of-factly.

   Shocked, Alex replied, “New Jersey? You don’t have a Jersey accent.”

   Tobin grinned and gave a fist-pump in the air. Alex laughed. “Yeah. . .” Tobin squinted into the distance before returning her gaze back to the seasoned Cali citizen.

   “Well, um. . . do you like it here? California?”

   “It’s a little different,” the new girl admitted, shrugging her head and grinning all the while. “The weather’s nice.”

   “Oh, it’s beautiful. . .” added Alex.

   “I can’t wait to go surfing,” Tobin stated. She hesitated when Alex didn’t say anything else. “Know any good places?”

   “Huh?” Alex uttered. “Oh. I’ve never been surfing before. But, uh. . . Kelley does it all the time with her family.” She pointed to the shorter girl across the way, standing next to Hope. “I could ask her.”

   “Cool, thanks.” The two returned to staring into their water jugs.

   “Um. . . I’m Alex,” said Morgan finally.

   Heath stuck her hand out. “Tobin Heath,” she replied. Alex gingerly reached out and clapped her hand to the older girl’s. Tobin shook it firmly.

   Just then, Coach blew her whistle again, calling off the water-break.

   “All right, ladies, let’s try out something called the Shield Drill. Give me two circles with one person and a ball in the middle of each circle.”

   Moving to comply, the girls broke off into two different groups and stood in circles. Alex followed Tobin, who joined Cheney, HAO, and A-Rod. Also in their group were Kelley, Hope, Megan, and Sydney. For the other group, Pearcey strode confidently into the center, while Alex’s group’s members stood uncomfortably, bearing Coach’s waiting stare. Finally, Megan cracked under the pressure and stepped inside the ring. Satisfied, Coach began to explain the idea.

   “The person in the middle has a ball,” she started, tossing a soccer ball into each circle, “and their objective is to maintain possession. So Rapinoe’s got the ball, and she’s trying to protect it until she can find someone to pass it to. I’ll send in random players to try and steal it from her, and she tries to hang on to it. The purpose of the drill is learning how to maintain possession by putting your body in between the other player and the ball. If you push back on them with your backside, you’ll put even more space between them and the ball.” Coach moved to the center and placed a foot on Rapinoe’s ball. “Try to steal it,” she told her.

   Megan stuck her foot out in a lame attempt to take the ball away, but Coach lightly tapped it farther out in front of her and moved her body to block Megan’s pathway to the ball. When Megan tried a  second time with a little more verve, Coach carefully pushed herself back into the young girl, keeping the ball out of Megan’s reach. The two fought for a few more seconds before Megan stopped, knowing it was futile.

   “Got it?” she asked the young athletes, who nodded an affirmative. “Okay, when I point at you, go attack until I tell you to stop. Once Rapinoe and Pearce have done everyone, we’ll switch out the middle so everyone gets a turn.” Coach pointed at Lauren and Carli in their respective circles. “Go!”

   With her back turned toward Lauren, Megan had little time to react before figuring out who she was up against. Cheney jabbed for the ball and knocked it a few feet from Megan, but not enough to make her lose it entirely. The next jab was unsuccessful as Rapinoe pushed back forcefully into Lauren. The pair fought equally for a few seconds as if it were tug-of-war, Lauren trying to shove into Megan while Megan tried to push Lauren away. Each time Cheney tried to slip to the left or right of Rapinoe, the younger girl, not giving an inch, would instinctively turn her body and move with her.

   Coach pointed discreetly at two other players in the circle, signaling that they were next. When she blew the whistle, calling off Lauren and Carli, the next challengers, Ali and Meghan, sprang into the middle. After Ali and Rapinoe tousled, Tobin was quietly called up next to go after the ball. Rapinoe struggled valiantly against the older, stronger girl, but as Tobin faked left, Rapinoe jumped to cover. This move opened up the right side for Tobin, who sidestepped the younger girl and victoriously dribbled the ball back to her spot in the ring. Cheers abounded for her as she reached over and gave Rapinoe a grin and a high-five for effort. Alex couldn’t help but smile at the casual display of good sportsmanship.

   When she received the go-ahead whistle next, Morgan was determined to also steal the ball and impress her potential teammates—especially Tobin. Coming up from behind Megan, her speed surprised the girl. Hungry and feisty, she appeared on the left of Rapinoe and pushed her hip against the girl’s, effectively gaining position. She used her right foot to sweep the ball away from Rapinoe and toward her left foot, where she pulled it back into her possession. Megan’s posture slumped in quick defeat, but an ecstatic Alex smiled and playfully shoulder-bumped the young athlete, who returned the smile and shoulder-bump.

   “Ya win for now, Morgan,” the Pinoe, winking at Alex. It was the best compliment she could muster to her friend. But Alex was fine with this, because the praise she really sought was Tobin’s. As she merged back into her spot in the circle, she glanced at her across the way. The older girl beamed at her. Alex felt herself helplessly inflating with pride.

   The group looked on as HAO challenged Rapinoe. It was nearly even, with each girl dead-set on winning the ball. As the battle raged on, Pinoe made a bad touch, allowing O’Reilly to stretch her leg out and swipe it back to her control. But Megan wasn’t one to give up easily. The blonde slide-tackled the older girl, who never saw it coming. Both players ended up flat on the ground as the ball bounced harmlessly out of the circle. Each sprung up, determined to retrieve it, but Coach blew her whistle to reset.

   Alex held her breath when she watched the next contender sprint for Rapinoe. A look of surprise at the speed of the oncoming girl registered on Megan’s face, and she could hardly blink before the ball was kicked away from between her legs. Pinoe chased after it, but Tobin Heath had already gotten there. Her smile read, “All too easy.” With good sportsmanship, Tobin reached out and gave a still-stupefied Megan a fist-bump. A couple of players whistled in admiration at the new girl, but Alex was too stunned to do anything but stare at her.

   After Megan’s hard-fought turn at shielding expired, Tobin moved into the middle. Coach sent Kelley in, who managed to get a touch on the ball, but not enough to possess it. Cheney tried valiantly, but Tobin made her job look easy. In the process of keep-away, Tobin somehow managed to legally land A-Rod flat on the ground, causing laughter to ensue. HAO was tough, but nothing the talented transfer couldn’t handle. Sydney couldn’t maneuver around Tobin, who was light on her feet and defending the ball as if her life depended on it. Feisty Rapinoe wouldn’t give up on her task to steal the ball from Tobin Heath. She eventually wore the eighth-grader down to the wire but came out unsuccessful. Tall goalkeeper Hope Solo was a big challenge—literally—but Heath’s fancy footwork won her the bout against the larger girl. She counted off her opponents in her head. Two, three, four. . . Six, seven. . . That left only one person.

   She turned her head immediately to watch Alex charge toward her. Sprinting hard, the seventh-grader’s sheer speed surprised Tobin. Etched into her rushing figure were all the marks of determination. Tobin took this as a challenge—one that she decided that she needed to win.

   With the soccer ball a few feet in front of her, she placed her right foot on top to gain control. Alex grew miffed when the older girl continued to block her path toward the sought-after object. Resisting to play dirty with an arms-extended shove, she opted to place a forearm against Heath’s back in an attempt to better manage her position. The new girl cautiously peered over her shoulder to spot Alex, trying to maintain a bearing on where she was and what she was planning to do next. Alex feigned left but quickly switched to drive right. Applying pressure with her forearm, the brunette held off Tobin. The move only granted her a split-second window, won by sheer surprise, as Tobin took her foot off the ball to steady herself, but that moment was all she needed to claim her victory. With a knowing smile, Alex launched herself toward the coveted object and pulled the ball back to her with her foot. Tobin, knowing that it was already over after having just glimpsed the younger girl’s skills, made a lazy jab with her right leg, but Alex easily swept the ball toward herself. It was now in her possession, and it wasn’t about to leave any time soon. Cheers for the seventh-grader rang out amongst those standing by.

   Coach blew the whistle. While walking back, Alex nudged the ball toward a defeated Tobin with a wink and a grin as Tobin smirked back, pretending to be thoroughly upset. Kelley gave her a high-five.

   When it came to be Alex’s turn at shielding, the young girl proved herself a force to be reckoned with. She lost control to Rapinoe, who smiled back coyly in revenge, Leroux, and A-Rod, but held her own versus the rest in her group. That is, until Tobin Heath was thrown into the mix. Alex’s mind raced, trying to guess what moves Heath would attempt to pull on her, but Tobin appeared to be all focus and determination. In one moment Alex was leaning against Heath, pressing her sweat-soaked shirt against her back and Tobin’s front. Then in the next moment, Alex was struggling to stand. Arms flailing, she fell hard onto the ground. Immediately she looked up and saw Tobin Heath, who had backed up and, sidestepping to let her opponent fall, capture the ball and flash Alex a cocky grin. Even though she had lost, the brunette couldn’t resist smiling back. Especially when Tobin reached out a hand and hoisted the twelve-year-old up.

   “Gotcha there,” she said, all smiles. Alex steamed and shook her head. She made it a mental note to never again throw her entire weight against Tobin Heath.

   The groups merged again, and Alex watched the new girl excel at the cone drills. Fluidly she moved through the obstacles at full-speed as if the ball were part of her—as if it belonged there. Not that Alex herself fumbled through the course. She prided herself on being the star striker for last year’s championship team in sixth-grade with astonishing footwork. But when she watched Tobin Heath. . .

   “Alex!” Kelley hissed from behind her.

   “Huh?” Morgan responded, turning her gaze off Tobin and onto the new voice in her ear.

   “You’re up! Go!”

   Kelley caught Alex staring at the new girl work the drill with astonishing speed several times after that, but said nothing more. She found her best friend’s lack of focus disturbing, but at the same time was incredibly curious at the cause of it. _I’ll have to ask her about it later,_ she told herself.

   After several different courses of cones, Coach called for yet another quick water break. Alex scouted for Tobin, who was on the opposite end of the bench. She took a couple of steps toward the older girl before stopping; Tobin was already lost in conversation with Lauren and Amy. She sighed, absent in thought. A tap in the shoulder jolted her back to her senses. Alex whirled.

   “Oh, hey, Syd. Nice moves out there.”

   “Thanks, Al. You too.” the dark-skinned girl praised.

   “Uh, sure,” Alex replied, only half-focused on their conversation. She threw a glance in the opposite direction of Sydney to where Tobin was chatting it up with her buddies. Turning back to Sydney, she frowned. “Tobin made me look like a fool.”

   Sydney laughed. “Kind of a nasty spill you took, eh?”

   “Yeah. But you didn’t help me look any better, either,” Alex jokingly pouted to her friend. “Just a few more seconds and I would’ve had you. Thanks a lot!”

   “Well, you know, when you’ve got this much skill, it’s hard to keep under wraps.” Sydney gestured to herself and winked at Alex, earning a soft punch in the arm. After the pair drank a few more swallows, the whistle once again sounded.

   “All right, then, everyone,” Coach began as the players surrounded her at midfield. “Let’s split up into teams for a scrimmage. Go back to your circles from the Shield Drill.” Alex and the rest of the girls moved to comply, adolescent cheers ringing out. With a hand stroking her chin, Coach looked on at the two groups and sorted them out in her head, using a finger to count silently.

   “We could just do eighth-graders versus seventh-graders,” Becky suggested with a smirk. Murmurs of concurrence from her fellow eighth-graders rang around the pitch. Amy and Christie high-fived. Hope clapped. Abby nodded.

   “What!” shrieked a concerned Kelley. Subconsciously she ran a hand through her hair, all the way to her high ponytail.

   “Yeah, why not?” confident seventh-grader Carli added her approval, eyeing the older players. “We can take ‘em, no problem.”

   Coach paused in thought. “That could work. Nine on nine. Is that what you all want?”

   Alex shot a nervous glance at Tobin, Lauren, and HAO, who had already separated themselves from her circle. She noticed the spring in Tobin’s step and a cocky grin. Suddenly, she became determined to prove herself just as good as the older players. “I’m okay with that.”

   The girls stood and stared at each other. The eighth-graders seemed to almost be daring the younger ones to back down from the challenge. After no one complained, Coach clapped her hands and said, “All right. Eighth-graders on this side, seventh-graders on that side. Uh, let’s see here. . .” She looked down at her clipboard in her hand. “Pearce and Wambach, eighth-grade captains. Seventh-grade. . . Let’s have Lloyd and Morgan. You’ve got two minutes until kickoff.”

   The seventh-graders ran to the penalty box at the other side of the field and joined together in a tight huddle. They looked to their captains for instructions. Carli shot a glance at Alex, giving her the go-ahead to hand out positions. Alex swallowed and then leaned in farther, making eye contact with her players.

   “Ashlyn, take goal. You’re our rock. Abby’s got a mean header, but it’s nothing you can’t handle. Kriegs, Kling, you guys are defense. Their midfielders can lose their spot on the field easily, so make sure you track them and try to catch them offsides as much as possible. Carli, Pinoe, mids. Syd, Press, and I can be forwards.”

   Kelley’s hand shot up in protest. “Uh, where do I go?”

   Alex looked to Carli.

   “I think we’ve got too many on the other side of the field. Their offensive game is strong,” said the other captain.

   Alex nodded in concurrence. “Kelley, can you handle right-back?” she asked.

   The younger girl frowned at her best friend. “I’ll try it.”

   “Can we move Syd and Press down, too? Three, four, one?” suggested Carli.

   Alex pondered this. “That could work. From left to right, that’d be Pinoe, you, Syd, Press?”

   “Yeah. Carli and Syd can hold, Pressy and I can make runs up the sideline,” Rapinoe agreed.

   Alex looked at each of her teammates. “Sound good?”

   “Sounds great,” said Meghan.

   Carli glanced at Coach, who was on the sideline enjoying a bottle of water, and concluded that they still had a little longer for strategy. “So we know Hope will be in goal. Christie and Becky will defend. HAO, Boxxy, and Cheney will likely run mid, which leaves Abby and A-Rod up top. Right?”

   “I doubt they’ll leave the backfield so open,” Ali submitted. Carli pursed her lips.

   “What about the new girl?” inquired Alex. Suffering a mean glare from Kelley at the mention of her new obsession, the young forward struggled to keep her head in the game.

   “I don’t know anything about her,” Press stated. The rest of the team agreed with her. Tobin Heath was a mystery.

   Coach dropped the ball into midfield and blew the whistle. Ashlyn scrambled to the sidelines to fetch her gloves and sprinted back to her box as Alex tapped the ball to Carli, signifying the beginning of the scrimmage. Carli sent it back to Sydney, who took it wide right. As the seventh-graders surged forward, the older team rushed at them.

   Alex looked up to make a mental note on where the eighth-graders had lined up. Except for Tobin playing left-wing, her co-captain had been correct. Surprising them all, the state winners had indeed left their defense in the capable hands of just Christie and Becky. Abby and A-Rod sprinted up the middle in hopes to gain position on the younger team, HAO, Cheney, Boxxy, and Heath not far behind. Running a 2-4-2, the eighth-graders had stacked their midfield, with Shannon currently charging at Sydney.

   Before Boxxy was within reach, Sydney found a seemingly uncovered Christen Press and decided to pass it off to her. But Tobin had long since anticipated this move, and she headed it off with ease. The direction of play changed as Heath advanced the ball down the sideline with the speed of light. The four seventh-graders at the other half of the field chugged back as quickly as possible, but were not going to make it in time. In front of the oncoming girl was Kelley O'Hara, who carried a chip on her shoulder, courtesy of Tobin. The right-back came out to challenge Tobin, but the new girl swiftly made a lateral move and dribbled right by before looking up to find Abby charging up the middle. With a left kick, Tobin floated the ball into the middle for the striker. Ashlyn prepared herself to face the tall athlete’s famous header. However, the short Meghan Klingenberg launched off the pitch first and headed it to the opposite side of the field, safely out of Wambach’s path. Large and full of momentum, though, Abby crashed into Kling, sending them both tumbling to the ground.

   “Kling!” called her concerned teammates from around her. Displaying resilience, Meghan immediately rolled out from under the thicker girl and bounced right back to her position. Sighs of relief were mixed in with heavy breaths from the sprinting athletes.

   Meanwhile, Krieger caught the ball and drove it up her left sideline. Once she drew in HAO, the defender launched it down the field, sending it high into the air and up for grabs. Carli trapped it and moved forward in the midfield, looking for her wingbacks. Pinoe, on her left, called for the ball, and Lloyd gave it up. Megan glanced up to see Alex, their lone striker, teetering on the edge of the defense. Waiting a few more seconds, Pinoe pushed it up the field. Once she had Pearcey finally commit to play out on her, she drilled it into the offensive third, where Alex got a step on the only other defender, Sauerbrunn. It was all the forward needed. Morgan got her first touch on the run and reared back for the shot. As she did so, she was so focused on the ball that she didn’t notice the star goalkeeper coming off the line. In the next moment, Alex found herself flying face-forward, landing on the grassy field with a resounding thud. No longer did she have the ball at her feet. Hope Solo had made the play. The eighth-grader didn’t even take a second to ponder whether or not she had made the right call to dive for the ball, clipping the younger girl’s legs in the process. It was what she had been called on to do.

   Morgan picked her head up out of the dirt and gazed down the field. Having already beaten half of the seventh-graders, Shannon was pushing it down the middle. She shoveled it out to Tobin on the wing when Kelley challenged her. Alex watched her best friend struggle back to Tobin, but the new girl floated yet another beautiful pass into the rushing Wambach. This time, the ball was placed too high for Kling, and Abby dove at just the right angle to send the sphere whistling past goalkeeper Harris’ ears and outstretched arms. Alex finally picked her dazed self up off the ground as Hope from behind her joined the eighth-graders in erupting with glee. When Abby ran over and gave Heath a great big hug for the beautiful cross, Alex felt her heart melt in her chest. Although they had just been scored on, Morgan felt happy because Tobin was happy.

   In the end, the eighth-graders ended up winning 3-1. The seventh-graders, though, proved that they could still compete, making plenty of runs. But pitted against the state’s best eighth-grade keeper, it wasn’t likely that many would go in. The younger team did manage to sneak one past Hope Solo. Pearcey , one of the two defenders and the only one back on that particular run, was forced to concede a corner kick in protecting their net. Rapinoe sent the ball flying perfectly across the goal line, and Carli Lloyd tracked it all the way as if there were nothing but her, the ball, and the net. Hope found herself defenseless against the volley that was sent with a powerful kick to the far corner, and just like that, it was a tie game.

   The tie was soon to be broken, however, when HAO barreled one in from the top of the box, Kling trailing by half a step and Krieger moving to cover. Ashlyn got one hand on it, altering the direction, but it wasn’t enough to prevent the score. The older squad’s third and final goal came courtesy of Tobin yet again. Lauren was driving in when Meghan cut her off, so she sent it out wide to an open Heath. With Kelley challenging her, Tobin danced on the sideline, ball at her feet as if it belonged there. O'Hara wisely showed her the corner, which Tobin gladly maneuvered into. With one false step from the inexperienced defender and a ball sent right in-between said defender’s legs, Tobin received the clearance that she needed and escaped, her man following. The defense shifted to cover her, and when the new girl had drawn Klingenberg in a satisfactory distance, she crossed it into the middle for a streaking Amy Rodriguez to fire the close-range one-timer.

   Carli and Alex rushed their downtrodden teammates to reset so that the scrimmage could continue, but after a well-defended shot by Morgan and a punt from Solo, the whistle blew. The eighth-graders whooped triumphantly while the younger squad held their heads down as the players gathered around Coach at midfield.

   “Hey, cheer up, you guys,” Shannon spoke up in the circle. “A 3-1 loss isn’t bad.”

   “She’s right.” Christie nodded her concurrence and smiled at the younger players. “That was a great set piece, nice kick from Rapinoe and excellent finish by Lloyd. Caught us a bit off guard.” The older athletes verbally agreed.

   “Good job to both teams,” Coach stated. “Eighth-graders, I’m looking to you this year to lead us. These seventh-graders have a lot of potential; they just need a little experience. I’m counting on you all for some spectacular teamwork this year. We’ve got at least as much talent as last year, if not more. That being said, it’s time for everybody’s favorite part of practice.”

   “Going home?” Abby asked jokingly, knowing what was coming next.

   “Conditioning!” Coach said with a smile. The players groaned out loud.

   “Eighth-graders, since you won, you get to pick what the seventh-graders get to do for conditioning.”

   Devious smiles spread across their faces as HAO gathered the older players around her for a quick conference. The seventh-graders nervously fixed their ponytails and shifted their feet, awaiting their punishment. After about half a minute, the group broke up. While half of them were smiling, half looked on the seventh-graders with pity.

   “The Pyramid,” O’Reilly told Coach, her smile broadening.

   “To six,” Lauren added matter-of-factly.

   “What’s the Pyramid?” Kelley asked, her face straightening. A few of the eighth-graders snickered.

   “You start at one line and run to the other and back once in a certain time limit,” Becky informed. “Then, you go down and back twice. Then three times. If anyone fails to make the time limit, you have to do that stage again. It builds until you get to six. I think the first stage is ten seconds, then the second is twenty-four, the third is forty. . . ”

   “Like a beep test. . . ?” Carli reasoned.

   Sauerbrunn nodded her head. “Sort of.”

   “Oh gosh,” Ali complained.

   “You get a short break in between,” Lauren assured.

   “Do goalkeepers have to do it, too?” Ashlyn inquired, hopeful. She didn’t get a response.

   “What about the eighth-graders?” Alex piped, furious.

   “Theirs is coming,” Coach assured. “Seventh-graders, line up across the face of the goal!” The younger players groaned but complied. “We’ll go to the fifteen-yard line,” she said, moving there. Since they were on a football field, they were able to use the lines and hash marks to define how far they would need to run. “Go!”

   The first two weren’t difficult for Alex in the least. Everyone made it back to the starting point with seconds to go as Coach called the time. The third and fourth was where the struggle began, and by the fifth, only she, Carli, and Kelley made it back on time. They ran that one twice; the sixth stage took three tries. Each of them collapsed onto the pitch when they finally made it back in time, opting to never get back up. But the next orders from Coach wouldn’t let them stay.

   “You guys, go get some water. Eighth-graders, on the line!” she said with a smile. Upon hearing this, the seventh-graders shot up immediately, more than happy to oblige. Not so with the older girls. Eyes widened. Mouths dropped. Players groaned. They slowly made their way over to the line.

   Alex greedily chugged her water with the rest of her younger teammates while they watched the older girls preform the grueling drill that they had assigned to them. They watched Shannon and Abby miss the time limit on the third round just two yards shy, forcing the whole group to redo it. The fourth and fifth were completed, but just barely. The sixth took a couple of tries. At the end, they all collapsed just as the seventh-graders had minutes ago. Alex looked at Tobin’s sweat-glistened body and snickered on accident.

   “Took us a lot longer,” Kling whistled from the sideline.

   “They had shorter times,” Carli stated from next to her and Alex. “I’m surprised they got it on the second,” she said with respect in her voice.

   “That’s all for today,” Coach finally said, looking at her watch. “I’ll post the roster outside my office tomorrow morning. Hit the showers and have a good day!” With that, she walked off. Heavy sighs of relief rang out from the players. Tryouts, which was really a fancy name for the first practice, was in the books.

   Alex secretly prided herself on noticing that Tobin had made it back successfully each time. She located Tobin’s water jug, which had been sitting right next to hers, picked it up, and walked over to the new girl. Carli grabbed Abby’s and followed, Kelley holding Hope’s not far behind. The rest of the seventh-graders picked up on the idea and walked over to the older girls, good-naturedly handing them their waters. The older girls were incredibly thankful when the cool water hit the backs of their throats.

   When Alex took Tobin’s to her, the girls eyes were closed, so she tipped it over, spilling the icy cold water onto the eighth-grader’s stomach.

   “Ahhh!” Her eyes flew open as she screamed and sat up.

   Alex jumped back, laughing, then timidly handed the jug over. Tobin relaxed from her sudden outburst and then broke out into a smile.

   “Thank you,” she said politely, then lifted the spout up to her lips and tipped it back to drink. Alex watched the older girl greedily down the liquid.

   “No prob,” the younger girl responded casually. Then, in a moment of uneasiness, she plopped herself down on the pitch next to the older girl, who didn’t bat an eye, thankfully. Alex picked at the grass while Tobin finished drinking. Heath pulled up her shirt to wipe the excess water on the rim of her mouth and then lifted it further to soak up the sweat all over her face, rubbing all over for several quick beats. Staring at the ground, Alex couldn’t help notice the girl’s shirt pulled up and subconsciously peered over out of the corner of her eye. All she could see was skin, very tan, before the image was gone from her eyes. Tobin sighed deeply as they sat there in silence for a few seconds.

   “You’re a great player,” she said all of a sudden. “Had some great runs and shots on goal. And the way you tear across the field like nobody’s business.”

   Alex blushed at the kind remark. “Thanks. . . My teammates from last year’s sixth-grade team always teased me about it, saying I gallop like a 'stallion,'” using air-quotes and a somewhat-disgusted face.

   “A horse, huh?” Tobin laughed, and Alex couldn’t help but join in. “Maybe a baby horse.” She paused, her smile broadening. “Hey, I like that. Baby Horse.”

   “Baby Horse?” Alex burst out incredulously.

   “Baby Horse!” Kelley exclaimed as she walked by, snickering. “That’s a good one.”

   “Oh, have we started nicknaming them already?” HAO, still lying on her back, asked from a few yards away.

   Alex blushed even harder. She had forgotten that she and Tobin weren’t the only people still on the field. “Them?”

   “You young guns!” Abby called as she strode past toward the locker room. “Oh, and Tobin. You’re a new kid, too.”

   “We’ll need to have a brainstorming session next practice,” Pearcey commented.

   “You can’t just assign someone a nickname,” complained Cheney. “They just sort of fall into place.”

   “Like Alex’s,” Tobin stated. “It’s just in the way she runs. Baby Horse!”

   “I’m not sure if I like the sound of that,” Alex said, cracking up.

   “Show of hands for 'Baby Horse?’” Tobin asked. Immediately HAO’s and Sydney’s hands flew up, followed by Carli’s, and the six other players still present. “Baby Horse it is.” She smiled at Alex.

   Alex groaned. “Whatever.” She pushed up off her palm and stood up, then bent over Tobin with her hand outstretched. The older girl looked at it and inhaled deeply before taking it and exerting some energy to pull herself up. Alex was worried that the older girl would pull her down, but fortunately she was able to hold her ground. Tobin grinned at her as she hauled herself up and began to follow her to the locker room before stopping. Curious, Alex turned around to see Tobin unscrewing the lid on her water jug and fishing out a piece of ice. With expertise she lobbed one right onto the face of Heather, who yelped at the sudden impact and coolness on her face. Tobin cackled, causing HAO to smile. She turned back to Morgan and jogged up next to the younger girl.

   “So, uh. . .” the younger girl asked after a while, tense. “Did you play soccer over there?”

   Tobin’s head snapped toward Alex, confused. “Huh?”

   “New Jersey. Where you used to live. Did you play soccer over there?”

   “Oh,” she replied coolly. Tobin peered up into the sunlight, squinting at the brightness. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ve been playing competitive for a while now. I really think I want to try for a scholarship.”

   “Oh, that’s neat,” Alex commented, genuinely fascinated. “Anywhere specific?”

   “Um, I’m not sure.” Tobin scratched her head. “I’ve always been a fan of North Carolina.”

   Alex laughed. “God, another Tarheel?” At this, Tobin threw her head back and laughed. “There’s too many of you,” the younger girl complained. “Ash, HAO, Kling. . .” Alex continued, “Well, I think you’re definitely on the right track. Those were some great moves earlier.”

   Tobin blushed at the compliment. “Thanks.”

   After a pause, Alex continued, “It wouldn’t surprise me if Coach starts you. I know they lost a lot of great players last year to high school after winning Regionals, so they’re probably looking to fill a few spots.”

   “Well, best of luck to both of us, then,” Tobin responded with a grin. Alex beamed back. Her second conversation with the new girl was going well.

   They came upon the locker room and, right as they entered, jumped back, startled. A shirtless Megan Rapinoe tore across the room, screaming vividly. Kelley O'Hara chased her, twirling a soppy hand towel above her head, an unhappy look on her face.

   “I’m sorry!” Megan screamed as she streaked past players at their lockers. Ali watched the spectacle and sighed. Ashlyn giggled.

   “Ya will be when I get through with you!” Kelley responded, hopping on top of a bench to avoid ramming into Becky and Hope.

   Alex and Tobin loitered in the doorway, unsure of what to do. They didn’t want to be trampled. From behind them Carli politely pushed her way past and strode over to her locker without even noticing Megan rushing at her full-blast. The impact sent Lloyd flying into Press’ locker. Flesh clashed against metal with a sickening thud, and Alex watched as all breath left her teammate. Megan stumbled backward from the opposite reaction and into Kling’s arms. The small defender caught the taller girl and nearly tumbled into her own locker, but was able to hold her ground.

   Kelley came to a skidding stop. “See what ya did now?” she half-scoffed, half-joked. She popped Megan’s calf with her damp towel for good measure before moving to check on Carli, recovering from her traumatic yet minor incident.

   “Hey!” exclaimed the scolded midfielder, who rubbed her now-stinging leg.

   Christie strolled in and immediately rushed toward the injured player. Diagnosis: Small bruise and a big headache in the morning. Prescription: Ibuprofen and an apology from Megan, both of which she received in full.

   Alex flashed Tobin an apologetic smile, and Tobin smiled back. With the coast now clear, they made their way toward their respective lockers and began to gather clean clothes and such for quick showers. Alex was immediately grateful that Rapinoe was not at her own locker, giving Alex a clear view of Heath, whose locker was just past Megan’s. She stared at the ground, cautiously sneaking peaks every few seconds. Tobin absentmindedly pulled off her shorts and t-shirt, exposing a lot of tan skin. She still had on a black sports bra and compression shorts, but the exposed figure of the older girl gave Alex a decent look at the rest of Tobin. Her eyes traveled down the older girl, lingering as long as she dared at her chest and then snapping to her midsection.

   “Damn,” she mumbled under her breath, “those abs!”

   Just then, after gathering clothes and toiletries, Tobin’s head turned and found Alex, who had been caught staring for just a second too long. The younger girl’s eyes grew wide, and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Tobin blushed as she made eye-contact for just a second. The blush turned into a knowing smirk before she headed for the shower. Once she had left, Alex sighed.

   “Wow.”


	2. The Play Maker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex Morgan and Tobin Heath’s friendship cannot be broken, and they intend to keep it that way—whatever the cost may be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Alex unlocks Tobin Heath.

**Adequately Concealed**  
**~Chapter 2~**  
**“The Play Maker”**

 

* * *

 

   “Great practice, everyone,” Coach Tracy told her players. “Keepers, defenders—actually, everyone—I need to hear you talking out there. If I can’t hear you, then you’re not talking loud enough. Remember, communication is key. Forwards and mids, how will your teammates know if someone’s on them if you don’t tell them? Hope, I need you to command that defense. We’ve got to have someone near-post and far-post on every corner kick, and then we’ve got to make sure that every player on the other side is marked. We’ve made it this far, but remember that if we win Saturday and next Tuesday, we’re guaranteed a spot in the playoffs.

   "That being said, I’ll see everyone back here tomorrow after school. Have a good rest of the afternoon; do your homework and get plenty of sleep.” With a clap of her hands, Coach ended practice.

   “Well, shoot,” Tobin said under her breath as the girls broke off toward the bench to gather their things. The eighth-grader shoved her hands in her pockets and stared at the ground. Seeming despondent, she carelessly kicked a ball a few feet in front of her.

   Alex matched her older friend’s stride. “What’s wrong?”

   “It’s five-thirty, that’s what’s wrong,” came the muffled reply. The late-September breeze rustled the fly-aways in the midfielder’s hair ever so slightly. Alex thought she saw Heath shake her head in dismay before taking her hair down and redoing it in a lazy half-ponytail.

   “Favorite TV show come on at five?” Alex half-kidded, half-guessed as the girls caught up to the discarded ball. The young forward watched Heath pull it up with her left foot and begin attempting to juggle with her feet while they walked.

   Tobin shook her head. “No, but I hope we end sooner tomorrow. I’ve got youth group tomorrow night at six.”

   Alex knit her brow. “Youth group?”

   The winger picked her head up to look at her clueless teammate, quietly chuckling to herself. “Y'know, church.”

   “Oh. . .” Alex nodded her head in acknowledgement before dropping it in silence, pondering this new information.

   Morgan admired the older girl’s reserved, low-key approach to life, although her own personality was far from it. A high-strung Kelley O’Hara and an exuberant Sydney Leroux constantly around her were partially to blame; however, Kelley had as of late been chasing Hope, and Sydney had been hanging around Abby, both girls defying the strange taboo about socialization outside of their own grade. As a good friend and teammate, Alex encouraged the different friendships. She didn’t mind the extra time it freed up, either, because she was able to spend it getting to know the rest of her new colleagues. Especially the newest one.

   Tobin Heath had been a total enigma, at first. Mystery had enshrouded the tan-skinned soccer player in every aspect of life. Being present in each other’s life for hours every day between classes, lunch, and soccer, though, helped to wear down the barriers that separated the transfer from the rest of the girls. Tobin’s easy-going nature played a large part, as well. So Alex had thought that she had gotten to know Heath pretty well over the past couple of months, but apparently not, since she had had no clue that Heath was religious.

   As they grabbed their waters and duffel bags, Cheney and A-Rod shuffled over.

   "Hey, are you going to practice tomorrow?” Rodriguez asked Tobin.

   Alex looked on quizzically. She had no desire to encroach on the conversation that obviously was pointed at Heath, but the older girls had come to she and Tobin. Not only did she want to be included, but she also wondered why they were asking. The team needed every player at practice so that they would be best prepared for the pair of matches in the next few days, not only because the girls wanted to win, but also because of the significance the matches carried.

   "Of course you’re going to practice, Tobin,” she said slowly. “You guys are, too, Cheney, A-Rod; right? I mean, we’ve got possibly our biggest game coming up Saturday, and then another one next Tuesday.”

   Cheney bit her lip as Heather walked up. “But Joe, our former youth pastor, is on furlough, and he’s in town for the week. He’s gonna be talking about his family’s new missionary life in Colorado.”

   “I miss Joe,” A-Rod added sullenly, head drooping.

   Alex was suddenly beginning to connect the dots. “Oh. . . Do you all go to the same church or something?”

   “Yeah,” Tobin answered. “My family started going there when we moved here during the end of the summer. That’s when I met Cheney and A-Rod, which was great because then I found out that we would all be trying out for the same soccer team. Oh, and HAO comes every once in a while.” Tobin winked and nudged her fellow eighth-grader.

   “Hey, I come every Sunday,” she commented. “It’s just Wednesdays when I’m busy.”

 _Oh,_ Alex thought to herself. _So that’s why Tobin, Cheney, and A-Rod hit it off at the beginning of the year so well, and why they’re always together._ A twinge of jealously appeared for just a split-second before vanishing as quickly as it had come when she snapped back into reality.

   “Anyway, are you going to practice tomorrow?” reiterated Cheney.

   “I’m not sure. . .” replied Tobin, who cocked her head in thought. “Probably so. I mean, like Alex said, it’s a pretty big game we’ve got coming up. Matt left before I got here, anyway, so it’s not quite as big a deal for me as it is to you guys. I don’t know… What are you guys doing?”

   “We’re going to practice and then cut out for showers at five. Cheney’s mom said she can take all of us if you want to carpool with us,” Amy informed.

   “Did you check with Coach Tracy?” a concerned Alex asked, raising an eyebrow.

   “She’s cleared us for tomorrow night,” HAO told the younger girl.

   “Oh, cool,” said Tobin. “I’ll have to check with my mom, but I think she should be okay with it. Do you have enough room in your car, Cheney?”

   “Plenty,” came the sure reply.

   Tobin turned toward the young forward standing next to her. “Hey, Alex, maybe you could come with us.” She warily glanced at Lauren to see if this was okay and received a short nod of approval.

   “Me, church?” Alex laughed, spilling some of her water. “Nah, I don’t think so. But thanks for the invite.”

   “Okay, see ya tomorrow, Tobs,” A-Rod cut in. HAO held up two fingers in a “peace” sign, and the three of them sauntered toward the locker room, leaving Alex and Tobin alone on the side of the field gathering their things.

   “Bye.” Tobin returned the gesture. Then, she turned to Alex. The younger girl could see a placid determination in her expression. _Uh-oh. What am I in for, now?_  "I really think you ought to come with us to church some time, Al. You might enjoy it.”

   “I doubt it,” Alex shrugged off the simple suggestion. “I’ve never been before.”

   Heath folded her arms and shook her head faintly. “Then that’s all the more reason to come. And it’s not like you won’t know anybody; you’ll have Cheney, A-Rod, HAO, and me. Just once, ‘Lex?”

   Alex pursed her lips. Tobin never asked for much. All the midfielder wanted of her was one visit. One visit couldn’t hurt Alex, could it?

   Setting down her water jug, the young striker mimicked Heath, crossing her arms. Alex then smirked as a thought crossed her mind. Tobin was a competitive girl who enjoyed a good challenge. It was at that point that the seventh-grader knew she had her friend in the palm of her hand.

   “I’ll make you a deal.”

   A grin spread slowly across Tobin’s face from ear to ear. Beaming, Tobin held a hand to her ear and leaned closer to hear what the younger girl was going to say.

   Alex continued, “I’ll go to church with you this Sunday if you score in Saturday’s game.”

   Tobin immediately straightened up. “Deal!” she exclaimed happily, stretching out her hand.

   Alex knew that she didn’t have anything to worry about. Although Tobin had scored many times in practice, the extent of her stats in the past eight games measured out to a school-record seven assists but zero goals. And if she did score, well, that was good for the team. So, with confidence, Alex extended her own right hand and grasped the older girl’s, sealing the deal with a firm, respectable handshake. She looked up into Tobin’s eyes, which were bright with resolve. The athlete’s smile seemed to hide something behind it, but Morgan couldn’t quite place it.

 

* * *

 

 

   Alex re-positioned herself for the fourth time in half a minute, this time opting to sit straight up with her hands on her knees, her back leaning against the hard wood. She sucked in a deep breath. Casually the striker glanced to her right, trying to catch a glimpse of the time on Tobin’s wristwatch. Eleven oh eight. The twelve-year-old exhaled, leaning forward in a desperate attempt to stay awake.

   Beside her, Tobin hadn’t shifted from her relaxed position in, oh, Alex couldn’t even guess how long. The older girl was at ease with her left foot resting casually atop her right knee, her left arm slung loosely behind Alex’s head and over the other side of the wooden pew. In her lap sat a navy blue Bible, its pages being flipped every so often. Alex marveled at how easily the midfielder would navigate over a thousand pages just to find a few specific lines of text. Beyond Tobin sat Lauren, Amy, and Heather, equally engrossed in the pastor’s sermon.

 _Stupid,_ she thought to herself. Of course Tobin would pick that of all games to score. Not just one, not even two, but three goals—a hat-trick. She wrote history the day before, tallying two assists and three goals in one game, the best stats in Diamond Bar Middle School’s soccer history. And it was from Tobin Heath.

   The midfielder’s first goal, following a beautiful cross from earlier that Morgan hadn’t been able to finish, was a simple put-back off Abby’s header that had clanged against the metal post in her direction. The keeper had dived right, and it was an easy pass to the opposite side of the net that had sealed Alex’s fate. But as Tobin swooped back around, celebrating with hands held high on her way back to midfield, she wagged a finger at Alex, who was on the sideline for a quick break. The eighth-grader knew she had to earn the deal-winner herself, not by scoring off what she was sure Alex would call “a lucky break.”

   So in the fifty-fifth minute, as the score was tied two to one in favor of Diamond Bar, a defender on the opponent’s team turned the wrong way and tripped up a streaking Heath in the box. When a penalty kick was called for, Tobin stepped up to the plate before Captain Pearcey could nominate Abby to take it and easily smashed it in past the goalkeeper. But she eyed Alex again with a mischievous grin. A penalty kick still wasn’t enough for her.

   After dealing Pinoe a nice through pass on which the other wing midfielder scored, making it four to two, Tobin single-handedly dribbled the ball on the right side up past the eighteen, beginning all the way from a Hope Solo punt to almost-midfield. With lightning speed and well-coordinated footwork, she drifted her way past three defenders, nutmegging two of them and leaving everyone else on the field in the dust. When she finally cut inside, determined to make this one her own goal instead of centering it back for A-Rod, who had subbed in for Abby, she faked the goalie out with a double step-over and easily escorted the ball across the goal line. Goal Diamond Bar in the eighty-fourth minute. A game that they were thought to lose going into was won five to two, led by MVP of the match, stand-out player, midfielder Tobin Heath.

 _S_ _crew Tobin,_ Alex said to herself.

   The group of girls watched the pastor, who had ceased talking, descend a step on the stage. His hands were clasped together, eyes pointed downward in thought. Alex silently sent up a prayer that it would be over soon. Her stomach rumbled quietly. Her body ached from yesterday, and sitting on this uncomfortable pew wasn’t helping. And, this guy’s speech was really confusing.

   The pastor spoke. “I want to close today’s message with this. The Bible makes it very clear that gay marriage is a sin. It is open rebellion against God. It is just as sinful as murder, having idols in our lives, and even lying. There is no ‘big sin,’ nor are there 'little sins.’ Sin is sin, and because of it, we were destined for Hell, bound for an eternity without God. But God. But God in His mercy made a way for us.” He paused. “We’re going to have a time of invitation now. If you feel like you need to do business with the Lord, come now.”

   Alex bowed her head in respect as the minister said a quick word of prayer. At “amen” she looked up to see everyone else slowly stand, so she got up as well. Awkwardly, she hummed the tune to the hymn that Tobin, next to her, monotonously sang, hands deep in her jean pockets. Alex tried to mimic the older girl as best as she could, in agony as the seconds slowly slid by. After two verses, the pastor closed the invitation, said a prayer over the offering, and then plates were passed among the congregation while a trumpeter played a solo.

   Tobin leaned closer to Alex. “I paid up last week,” she jokingly whispered in the younger girl’s ear.

   Alex tried to keep a stern face and stifle her giggles, but she made the mistake of looking over at Tobin, whose smile immediately made her crack. The forward’s quiet snickering earned a few curious glances from Cheney, A-Rod, and HAO, but she didn’t care. It was Tobin’s fault.

   Finally, the pastor called for everyone to stand up and hold hands across the aisles as they sang out. Alex, being on the end, had only Tobin next to her. The older girl smiled and stretched out her hand, and Alex warily took it. The touch was electric. It was the first time that she had ever held Tobin’s hand. Of course they had exchanged high-fives, and even a hug after the team’s disappointing draw in which Alex had missed her PK, but had never maintained contact for so long. It felt strong, sturdy, but surprisingly soft. The situation made Alex want to laugh and cry and scream, all at the same time. But she had to settle for just humming the tune to the hymn again as the service came to a close, and the human chain was broken.

   “I need to go pick up my sis,” declared Amy once it ended. “Bye guys! See ya tomorrow!”

   “I’ll join you,” Lauren said. “Bye Tobs, HAO. Bye Alex.” She waved goodbye.

   O’Reilly shuffled out of the pew row to let Lauren and Amy out, then turned back to Tobin and Alex to strike up friendly conversation.

   “So what’d ya think? It was your first time in a church service, right?” the eighth-grader asked Alex.

   The younger girl looked from older girl to older girl, wondering what she should say. She certainly didn’t want to offend. Religion seemed important to them; especially to Tobin. But they had asked her opinion, so she was entitled to say it. “It was. . . interesting,” she started out cautiously, testing the waters. "The part where he was talking. . .”

   “The sermon,” Tobin helpfully inserted.

   “The sermon, yeah,” Alex reiterated. “Uh. That was kind of confusing.”

   Tobin shifted her stance, leaning against the back of the pew that was in front of them. “Yeah. Wednesday nights are usually easier to understand, when you’re hearing from the youth pastor. He angles his talks more towards a younger demographic than our main pastor from today does because he doesn’t have to preach to adults.” She shot a glance at HAO.

   Heather held her hands up in mock surrender. “Sorry. Like I said, I’m busy on Wednesday nights.”

   “Hmm,” was all Alex managed.

   “Well, let me know if you ever have any questions you want answered,” Tobin responded with friendliness and a warm smile.

   The striker pondered this offer. “I was kind of wondering what he was saying in that last little bit. I didn’t know Christians were against gays.”

   At this statement slash question, Heather snickered, earning a glare from Tobin. She turned her gaze to the ground.

   “We’re not against gays,” responded Tobin coolly. “As Christians, we’re called to love everybody, regardless of their 'orientation.’ But the Bible definitely calls acts of homosexuality sin. And sin is what we’re against. So obviously, we can’t really support gay marriage.”

   Alex paused, soaking this in slowly. “But how can you balance that?”

   “'Love the sinner, hate the sin,’” O'Reilly quoted. Heath nodded in concurrence.

   “Yeah,” she agreed, taking her time to answer. “We were all created in God’s image, so I mean, we’re all equal. And we all sin. But a lot of people don’t think being gay is a sin. And I guess it might not be; it’s just acting on it that makes it a sin. I’m not sure. I’m just a kid. I don’t have all the answers. But I do know that ultimately, Jesus said that we first ought to love God, and secondly, love our neighbors. I can’t support 'gay pride,’ and I may be ridiculed for that. but I can love everyone all the same.” She cocked her head to the side a little bit. “Does that make any sense?”

   Alex was slow to nod her head. Tobin grinned at her reassuringly. This Bible talk sure was confusing for the seventh-grader. But she did know one thing. Heath’s smile just about melted her heart.


	3. The Rising Champion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex Morgan and Tobin Heath’s friendship cannot be broken, and they intend to keep it that way—whatever the cost may be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Alex complements Tobin Heath.

**Adequately Concealed**  
**~Chapter 3~**  
**“The Rising Champion”**

 

* * *

 

   “No,” Abby said. “I’m not even accepting this one.”

   “Yes! It’s totally legit!” Kelley yelled.

   “Kelley, in no way is a squirrel ‘patriotic,’” the stocky forward stated.

   “Yeah it is. It’s Georgia’s state animal,” reasoned the defender.

   “Really?” inquired a Stanford University-bound Nicole Barnhart.

   Leslie Osborne furrowed her brow. “I’m looking that up,” she said.

   “Okay, so. . . it’s not the state animal,” Kelley said. “But squirrels are _life_. And life is patriotic.”

   “She’s got a point there,” added Tobin.

   “Tobs!” Alex scoffed. Playfully she punched her friend’s shoulder. “Come on, you know mine’s the best.”

   “'Abraham Lincoln?’” the eleventh-grader asked, giving an eye-roll. "Right. That’s so original. Sorry Al, even Kelley’s is better than yours.”

   Alex stuck a hand over her heart, scoffed, and pretended to be wounded. “Ouch, Tobin Heath.”

   Wambach raised her hands to silence the chatty group. “I pick. . . squirrel.”

   Alex fell forward with her hands outstretched. “No!”

   “Chill, 'Lex, it’s just Apples to Apples,” Tobin said coolly.

   “But now I’m behind a point,” Alex moaned. The tenth-grader crossed her arms like a child.

   “You’ll make it up next round,” Heath assured, good-naturedly giving her younger friend a pat on the back.

   Sure enough, she was Judge for the next round.

   “Alex’s, without a doubt,” she said with a smile and a wink.

   “What!” protested Amy. “The round hasn’t even started yet.” She fanned her cards out and looked incredulously at her friend. Cheney also glared at the midfielder.

   In response, Tobin laughed and pointed at the winner. Alex smirked.

   “I’m done,” a fed-up, winless Carli Lloyd stated firmly, dropping her cards on the ground in front of her.

   “New game,” called Pearcey, who gathered all the cards. Once Apples to Apples was cleaned up, she produced a deck of regular playing cards. “Spoons?”

   Coach Bill walked in. “Hey ladies. Quick reminder. The boys are over at their grandparents’ house for the night. The wife and I are headed to bed. We’ll be upstairs if you need us. I know you just won Playoffs, so stay up as late as you want celebrating, but try to keep the volume at a minimum, okay? Thanks. Great season, once again. You’ve got the weekend off, and then Monday we start preparing for State.”

   The varsity soccer players nodded their heads in agreement, some offering quiet celebratory cheers.

   “Night, Coach,” said a few of them. After giving the energetic girls a thumbs-up, he climbed up the stairs, shutting and locking the door at the top.

   “Go get us some spoons, Kel,” Hope half-asked, half-demanded as the team sat in silence.

   Kelley’s eyes went wide as her head snapped toward the goalkeeper. “Sure thing, Hope!” she said, slightly enthusiastic to oblige Solo’s request. In a flash, the sophomore hopped up and was in the kitchen digging around for silverware rather noisily. Glances and smirks were exchanged across the living room between players.

   “Maybe we’d better not use silverware,” suggested Lauren. “His wife might get a little upset if all her eating utensils are in the dishwasher.”

   “I’ll go help Kelley,” Alex volunteered, getting up and making her way toward the kitchen.

   Tobin stood up. “I’ll come, too,” she offered.

   Alex smiled broadly at her, and the two left to help Kelley. They could hear snickers behind them. Entering the kitchen, they found Kelley counting out twenty-two spoons, forks, and knives.

   “Hey Kel, I think we’re—“ Alex began but was cut off when Kelley whipped around to face her, knife in hand. All three of the players’ eyes went wide.

   “Woah there, Kels. . .” the striker started, hands up.

   “Sorry!” the shortest girl of the trio said, nearly dropping the knife on her foot. “Don’t scare me like that.”

   “Teaches you to keep an eye out for your best friend all the time,” Alex responded coolly.

   “Touché,” replied Kelley.

   “Anywho, as I was saying,” the older girl continued, “we figured Coach’s wife might not be too thrilled if we use all her silverware, so let’s try to find an alternative.”

   Tobin wandered toward the desk. “Pens?” she asked, lifting up the mug full of pens and pencils. The threesome took the mug back to the living room.”

   “Twenty-two?” Heath asked as she began pulling them out of the cup, one eyebrow raised.

   Megan Rapinoe peered around the room at the twenty-two other girls, just now grasping the size of the group. “Oh, hell no! Apples to Apples is one thing with a ton of people, but I am _not_ reaching that far for a spoon.”

   "Let’s split up into two groups,” suggested senior Heather Mitts.

   Without words, the girls scooted around and formed two circles. One consisted of the starting eleven, while the other side had all the benchwarmers. It wasn’t like the starters were any better at card games than the subs. It was just the easiest, most natural way to separate. Alex wasn’t too fond of the sort of “cliques” formed by this method, but most of her friends were in the second group, anyway.

   Christie tossed another pack of cards to Rachel Buehler, who was in the subs’ circle. They each shuffled and dealt everyone four cards. As Kelley cautiously eased herself in between Alex and Hope, Alex leaned in closer to Tobin in an attempt to read her hand.

   Tobin pulled her cards to her chest and turned abruptly to face Alex. “Tsk, tsk!” she scolded, wearing a big grin.

   The forward beamed back at her friend and shrugged her shoulders. “Can you blame a girl for trying?”

   “In a word? Yes,” came the reply as Rachel started the round.

   From the remaining stack of cards, she took the top one and looked at it, then, deciding that she didn’t need it, placed it face down clockwise for Heather and then picked up the next one on the top. The play continued with the athletes passing the cards around in a circle. If one of them happened upon a card that they wanted to keep in order to match all four and grab a “spoon” to win, they would trade one of the four in their hand. The girls kept on the alert, knowing that once one player completed their hand, the pens in the circle were free-game.

   Now determined to win, without cheating off Tobin, Alex refocused her attention to the game. Her two jacks soon were joined by their third member, but after the entire remaining deck from Buehler had gone through, the fourth was yet to be found. Suddenly, the middle of the circle was chaos. Nicole, who had achieved a complete hand, had attempted to stealthily pull a pen from the pile, but Amy and Rachel caught on fast. In the midst of the furious grabbing, Mittsy had stretched her body out all the way to retrieve a game piece and was now close to being trampled by the competition. Tobin subtly took one while the others laughed in spite of the shortest defender. Alex, meanwhile, continued to weed through the pile of cards on her right, totally oblivious to the struggle until her card pile had been emptied and she finally noticed that the supply from Kelley had run out. By the time she looked up, there remained a single pen, one that Becky Sauerbrunn had already had her eye on. Just one beat off, Alex lunged for the pen and grasped only the air where the “spoon” had been before Becky had grabbed it. Alex peered around the circle in defeat, the only player to not have taken a pen.

   “Tobs, you’re supposed to tell me when to grab one,” she complained to the midfielder, who was content to merely smile and shake her head at the younger player.

   So Alex was forced to sit through six more eliminations before Tobin got out, which is when she began to mock her friend. Once the round ended, with Hope ending as the lone victor form their circle, the athletes were at a loss for what to do next, since they weren’t going to go through _that_ again.

   “Kemps,” Becky suggested.

   Immediately, Tobin turned to Alex. “Whaddaya say?” she asked the younger girl with a smile.

   Alex smirked, replying, “Did you even have to ask?”

   Wordlessly, the two beelined for the kitchen again to form a signal before the entire group had even had time to vote yes. Alex folded her hands behind her back and began pacing back and forth along the cold tile. Leaning against the granite countertop, Tobin ran a hand through her hair as she pondered codes that they had previously used. The striker covertly sneaked a glance at her teammate. The midfielder’s features softened as she remained deep in thought. The overhead light illuminated her tan skin just right. The sight of her best friend was nearly breathtaking, and it took all of Alex’s will to stay on task.

   “Hey, that’s an idea,” Alex stated, ceasing her movement.

   Tobin’s head rose to face Alex, her features showing slight confusion. “Huh?”

   “Running a hand through our hair.”

   Tobin smiled and shook her head. “C'mon, 'Lex, that’s way too cliché.”

   Alex bounded toward Tobin. “That’s why it’s perfect!”

   Taking the older girl’s hand in her own, she pulled them both back into the living room. Tobin shook her head in disbelief, but obediently took her seat on the floor across from her partner. On her left sat Kelley, whose partner was Hope, and on her right, Ashlyn, whose partner was Ali. Alex knew that they’d have some reasonable competition, and even more so with Kelley and Hope as partners and Ashlyn and Ali together. As Buehler dealt the cards, Alex turned her attention to Tobin, briefly nodded, and then picked up her cards. The shuffling had been in her favor—three queens and a five. Once Rachel flipped over the last of four cards from the stack, all Hell broke loose as eleven girls scrambled for the pieces of paper in the middle of the circle. The starters’ group glanced over curiously, some rolling their eyes at their inferiors.

   Alex watched the mad scrum carefully, eyes trained for that last queen that she needed. Finally, Hope nonchalantly slid a three in Kelley’s direction. The short defender jumped at the card, dropping Alex’s coveted queen. However, Becky had noticed Morgan’s laid-back and waiting figure, and once Alex immediately dropped her five, correctly surmised that the forward needed that queen. Slyly she dropped a card from her hand and scooped up the queen before Alex could react. The younger player’s eyes, alight with fire, turned toward Broon, who offered a knowing smirk. Alex stuck her tongue out in childish revenge as Buehler swept the pile and produced four new cards. Sauerbrunn’s partner, Barnie, released third last ace, so she impulsively traded away the five rather than her three. While Becky reached across for the ace, Alex, who had been eyeing the defender like a hawk, rapidly snatched up the five and quickly signaled to Tobin that she had four of the same number. _Tobs, look up!_ she thought desperately. The midfielder’s gaze was glued to the center of the circle, waiting for her eight to appear. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Alex’s signal just as Becky was trying to get Nicole’s attention.

   “Kemps!” she screeched, pointing at Alex.

   The striker beamed with pride, plopping her cards in front of her and celebrating. “Yeah, Tobs!” Morgan yelled, standing up on her knees and reaching over to give the winger a high-five.

   “Shh!” Brianna Scurry scolded them from the other circle, reminding them of the Coach’s wishes.

   “Sorry,” a few of the secondary players mumbled.

   “Big whoop,” Kelley commented, a look of disgust apparent on her face. “Ya won one game. Don’t let it go to your head.”

   “Don’t worry, Kel, they aren’t winning again,” Ali assured, winking at her and sneering at Alex.

 

* * *

 

   After ten games, including eight wins for the Tobin-Alex duo, the backups’ group sighed collectively and heavily. The starters had long since quit their games and had been enjoying watching "Talex" totally dominate the others.

   “I’m done,” Carli said, throwing her cards down. “You two have been playing us this entire night.”

   “It’s a scam,” agreed Lauren.

   “Alex notched Monop Deal.”

   “Tobin won Bananagrams.”

   “Alex conquered Apples to Apples.”

   “By a margin of six points. Of eighteen rounds!”

   “They killed us all in Kemps.”

   “Guys, games aren’t any fun if you don’t actually let someone else win for a change. Your chemistry is unfair.”

   “Let’s do something else,” suggested Tobin, eager to get off the subject.

   “I’m kind of tired,” admitted Amy with a yawn.

   “Nah, girl!” Pinoe said. “It’s only. . .” She leaned over and borrowed Abby’s wrist to read the time. “Two o’ clock.”

   Abby stretched her arms out. “Let’s take a break from games for a while.

   "Truth or dare!” HAO appealed.

   “Where’s the alcohol?” Hope asked with a smug look.

   “You know Coach Bill doesn’t drink,” Boxxy stated matter-of-factly.

   “We could take water shots,” giggled Kelley.

   Hope rolled her eyes at the younger girl. “Like that’d do any good.”

   “Let’s just watch a movie,” suggested Alex.

   “Ohhhkay,” Christie said. “Let’s see. What movie do you guys want to watch?” she asked, rummaging through Coach Bill’s DVDs.

   “ _She’s the Man_!” several people whispered harshly.

   Cat Whitehill groaned. “We always watch that.” The other veterans waved her off.

   “Pop it in, Pearcey,” Abby said, reclining with her hands behind her head.

   Tobin patted the empty spot next to her. “Here, 'Lex.”

   Alex smiled and crawled over.

   “Get a room,” Ashlyn coughed. Ali swatted her thigh lightly and playfully.

   “Speak for yourself!” came the reply from HAO, effectively shutting the keeper up.

   “We’re just friends,” Tobin said coolly. As if it proved her point, she smiled broadly and proceeded to wrap her arm around Alex’s shoulder, drawing her closer. Alex threw her a quizzical glance that she didn’t see.

 _What the heck, Tobin?_ the striker fiercely wanted to ask, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t because it felt so good. So before she knew what she was doing, she played along, snuggling up closer to the older girl. Tobin’s body was moderately warm upon contact, passing little heat to Alex, but the sophomore felt like she was in a furnace. But it was a furnace that she never wanted to get out of.

   “Right. And I’m going to be a professional soccer player when I grow up,” Carli stated, rolling her eyes.


	4. The UNC Commit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex Morgan and Tobin Heath’s friendship cannot be broken, and they intend to keep it that way—whatever the cost may be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Alex misses Tobin Heath.

**Adequately Concealed**  
**~Chapter 4~**  
**“The UNC Commit”**

 

* * *

 

   Fueled with adrenaline and anger, Alex Morgan swiftly tossed her duffel bag into the empty passenger seat and slammed her car door shut. With the key in the ignition but not turned, she sat straight up for ten full minutes, just staring out the window at the dark of the September night that was illuminated sporadically by streetlamps. Her hands tightly gripped the steering wheel at ten ‘n two as she watched the other cars abandon the parking lot. Finally, in a fit of frustration, the striker brought her forehead to the wheel and at last let loose. Bitter sobs racked throughout the empty car, but nobody was around to notice. Endless tears rolled down her cheeks and splashed onto her bare thighs. When the forward’s soft volume of crying began to dissipate, she heard her phone buzz inside her duffel bag. Alex reached over and pulled out the device. Through the tears, she read,

 **[9:02PM]** Some Random Loser: I’m sorry, 'Lex.  
**[9:16PM]** Some Random Loser: Come over?

   She stared at the lit screen for several beats before her body could respond to the nearly hour-old messages. Dropping the phone back into its designated pocket, Alex wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and sniffled. She turned the key and tried to compose herself as she drove the twelve-minute route.

   The next few minutes were all a blur. Parking somewhat crookedly next to the curb, she cut the engine and snatched her bag from across the seat. After she climbed out and closed the door quietly, the brunette sprinted to the front porch. Before Alex could knock, rays of light shined upon her and flooded into the pitch black night. Without looking up, she fell straight forward, knowing strong arms would catch her.

   "It’s okay,” Tobin whispered to the striker, who was relapsing into her earlier state. The older girl wrapped her arms around the younger, bringing her closer for a tighter embrace. Alex buried her face in the girl’s shoulder, soaking the cotton t-shirt with tears. "It’s okay,” Tobin repeated several more times over the next couple of minutes, adding a series of gentle pats on the eleventh-grader’s back. Alex said nothing, choosing instead to let Tobin comfort her in silence. The midfielder’s body heat transferred over, gently warming the younger girl to the bone. Or perhaps it wasn’t just Tobin’s body heat that made her feel warm.

   When Tobin saw that Alex was planning to remain unresponsive, she pulled the girl into her house and closed the front door slowly and softly so as not to wake anyone else up. Turning around, she headed to the kitchen, quietly creeping about the home. She scavenged around for a short minute before stealing toward her bedroom, where the forward had already made herself at home. Morgan laid face-down across the midfielder’s bed, duffel bag sitting in its adopted place next to Heath’s. Alex felt the bed sink slightly next to her, and without looking, she knew her friend was imitating her. The junior only picked her head up briefly after hearing a few _thunk_ s. In front of her laid a banana, a cup of strawberry yogurt and a spoon, and a fun-sized Twix bar. She nuzzled her head further into the comforter.

   After about five minutes, Tobin broke the silence in a way only Tobin could. “So. . . You showered, right?”

   Alex finally raised her head and stared blankly at her friend, trying to decide how to respond to Heath’s sarcastic question. Her tears had ceased, for now, leaving her eyes red and puffy. Not a smile was present, although she was on the verge of cracking a smile at her friend’s attempt to cheer her up. But she wasn’t quite in the mood, yet. “No,” she settled on.

   The midfielder raised an eyebrow. “Well then.” With that, she gently shoved the younger girl off the bed, cocking a slight grin.

   Alex picked herself up off the floor and was about to mutter something unkind, but when she looked up and saw the senior’s smirk, she lost her words and broke out into a small smile, too, shaking her head all the while. As Tobin looked on, the forward helped herself to Tobin’s dresser-full of clothes, rummaging for suitable pajamas. She pulled out a pair of white basketball shorts with baby-blue trim. When she was searching for a t-shirt, however, she paused. Never one to be caught unmatching, Alex selected a new shirt of Tobin's—a blue one, one that had been given to her for free. Taking both articles with her, she retreated into the bathroom to change.

   When she returned short minutes later, Alex saw that Tobin had rolled over and spread herself out on the plush bed, hands folded behind her head, eyes closed. _What a dork,_ thought Alex. After dropping her pile of clothes on top of her duffel bag, she flopped onto the bed, stomach down, next to Tobin and let out a deep sigh. The senior opened her eyes and took in Alex’s clothing choices. Alex caught the look of surprise that crossed her friend’s face before it vanished in a split-second.

   "I like your t-shirt,” Tobin said in an even tone, seemingly testing the waters.

   "I know you do,” Alex heaved, “but I hate it.”

   "Then why wear it?”

   Alex sat up on her elbows and peered over at the girl. "Because I’m supporting my best friend.”

   In all honesty, the shirt didn’t bother the junior a bit. After all, who doesn’t love a free Nike Dri-Fit? Her problem was that it _was free_ , and _why_. One look at the logo and it was easy to tell where Tobin’s allegiances lay, although the unmistakable North Carolina-blue hue wasn’t easy to miss, either. They had shipped her the shirt after she had committed to attend and play there next season.

   In response, the senior, too, raised up on her elbows. She straightened out her smile and cocked her head to the side, as if trying to figure out the forward. Alex had made her opinion on the subject very clear.

   The junior sighed. “Look, Tobs. . . You know I hate the idea of you going so far away. But I realized lately how much of a jerk I’ve been. It’s pretty selfish of me to hate on your decision, even though we all know it’s what’s best for you, just because it’ll split us apart. We’re friends, Toby, and we need to support each other, regardless of our opinions and choices.”

   "Wow, 'Lex.” Heath’s face lit up gradually, trying to grasp that Alex had just conceded a nearly year-long argument. Alex Morgan did _not_ like to lose. It was certainly a rare event, too. "That really means a lot to me, y'know. You have no clue how happy you just made me.” With a strong left arm, she pulled the striker in for a hug.

   Alex cuddled up against her best friend, cherishing the sweet touch of the older girl. It was this particular Tobin Heath that she found herself longing for more of as each day passed, but unfortunately, didn’t have. And with the move across the country next year, she would have even less of her.

   Pulling her head away from Tobin’s broad shoulder, Alex’s eyes moved slowly over the midfielder, taking in every detail, trying to keep it engraved in her memory. “I just wish it didn’t take you away from me this year, too,” she complained softly.

   Tobin’s smile faded, knowing what Alex was referring to. The younger girl had also made her opinion about Tobin not playing for their high school this year very clear. “You know I prayed and thought long and hard about it, just like the decision to go to UNC,” she informed the forward.

   Alex groaned, recalling the excruciating past spring and summer during which Tobin had seemed to distance herself from the gals. It wasn’t like the midfielder had skipped out on any of their get-togethers, whether it was a scheduled scrimmage, a spur-of-the-moment trip to the mall with Amy and Lauren, or an ice cream run with Alex and Kelley. The junior knew that the senior had struggled in her decision-making those few months—and rightly so, with everything that had to be on her friend’s mind. Because Tobin’s reasons were totally her own, all Alex could really do was nod her head slowly and say, “Do what you think is best.”

   Because when she had offered her opinion, it didn’t go too well.

 

* * *

 

_The beat of the music pulsed in Alex’s ear. She found herself nodding her head every so often while mouthing the words. Hastily her pen glided across the page, leaving black scrawl that was legible to only two people on the face of the earth in its wake. After she finished the paragraph, the sophomore paused to glance over the last sentence. Frowning, she scratched out a few words and tapped her chin with her pen in thought, delving into her brain for more sophisticated word choices. Suddenly, her phone buzzed. When she turned the screen on, she saw it was a message from her best friend._

**_[4:24PM]_ ** _Toby: Meet me at the park?_

_The striker read the clock at the top of the screen. Curious at why Tobin was suggesting they get together, especially since she hadn’t mentioned it a couple of hours ago when they had seen each other at school, Alex decided to interrogate her friend before taking action._

**_[4:25PM]_ ** _Me: Why?_

_Heath responded immediately._

**_[4:25PM]_ ** _Toby: It’s important!_  
**_[4:25PM]_ ** _Me: I’m in the middle of a paper._  
**_[4:26PM]_ ** _Toby: You can write it later._  
**_[4:27PM]_ ** _Me: It’s due tomorrow!_  
**_[4:27PM]_ ** _Toby: This won’t take long._  
**_[4:27PM]_ ** _Toby: Promise!_  
**_[4:28PM]_ ** _Me: Tobs…_  
**_[4:28PM]_ ** _Toby: Just come!_  
**_[4:29PM]_ ** _Me: Parents??_  
**_[4:29PM]_ ** _Toby: I’ve got a ball. You can tell them we’re practicing._  
**_[4:32PM]_ ** _Me: Fiiiiine, I’m coming._

_Alex shrugged. A little break could do her some good, anyway. Throwing on a pair of tennis shoes, she grabbed her duffel bag and waltzed downstairs. At the front door, the tenth-grader called to her mother._

_"Mom, Tobin wants me to meet her at the park for a little one-vee-one.”_

_Mrs. Morgan strode down the hallway, eyebrow raised and arms crossed. "Have you finished your homework?”_

_"No,” Alex admitted a little sullenly, "but I need a break from that paper. I’ll be back within an hour?”_

_Pam sighed. “Okay. One hour.”_

_"Thanks, Mom!”_

 

_~~~~_

 

_"Alex!” Tobin called, her face instantly lighting up when she saw her favorite striker making her way toward her. She kicked the soccer ball up once more and then chest-trapped it, letting it bounce to the ground before placing a steady foot on it. Keeping it under total control, the midfielder’s foot rolled it about as Alex walked up._

_"Hey,” Alex huffed, slinging her bag down underneath the tree. She turned to the junior, who was currently decked-out in University of Carolina gear from head to toe. The tanned midfielder sported light blue socks, white shorts with the same color as trim, a logo’d UNC hoodie, and a licensed beanie, too. A light breeze rippled through Tobin’s hair, teasingly lifting it in the cool March wind. The sun was hidden behind a thick set of clouds, but a few beads of salty liquid still dripped down the side of the older girl’s face—evidence that she’d been here, dribbling and juggling, at least long enough to work up a sweat._

_"So what’s this all about? You didn’t mention hanging out earlier at school.”_

_"I know,” replied Tobin, beaming. "But I needed to tell you something, and I didn’t want to do it over text.”_

_"Oh?” The foward’s face scrunched in worry. "What’s wrong?”_

_"Actually, it’s something I needed to show you,” the midfielder reiterated. She then reached over to her bag and produced a clean white envelope addressed to Tobin Heath. The return address was Chapel Hill, and its broken seal looked awfully official. Taking the envelope warily from the junior, Alex eased the letter out and read it quietly. When she had finished and looked up, Tobin’s smile was even broader than earlier. She waited for Alex to speak, but when her friend seemed speechless, Heath took the opportunity to say something._

_"Cool, right?”_

_Alex’s hands dropped slowly to her side, still clutching the precious letter. She opened her mouth to talk, but it wouldn’t produce words._

_“Uh, 'Lex. . .” Tobin waved her hand playfully in front of her friend’s face. “I said, 'Cool, right?’”_

_Alex snapped back into focus, her attention now turned to Tobin. The midfielder’s eyes traveled over her cautiously. As the radio silence continued, Tobin’s face gradually relaxed. She stuffed her hands inside her hoodie pocket._

_"Speak, Alex,” she demanded._

_"Tobin, I. . .” the striker stuttered. She wanted to speak, to say something, to encourage her friend, to share in her joy—the joy that this moment should be overflowing with. But she couldn’t. Finally, she managed a simple, “That’s great.” But on the inside, she was screaming. North Carolina was literally one of the farthest places away from California. This could not be happening._

_"It’s a full-ride,” Tobin stated matter-of-factly. "North Carolina, 'Lex. They want_ me _.”_

_"Everyone wants you, Tobs,” Alex said a little too quickly._

_"Maybe they do. But North Carolina. . . They’re the best; everyone knows that.”_

_Alex sighed. “But North Carolina. You know how far away that is?”_

_Tobin’s expression changed. “Yeah. It’s across the country.”_

_"And you’re okay with that?”_

_"Of course I’m okay with that. Why would I not be?” The midfielder’s eyes searched Alex’s face for a sign, a clue of what was going on through the younger girl’s mind._

_"What about your family?”_

_"They were_ ecstatic _when I showed them, 'Lex.”_

_"What about your friends?”_

_"You’re the only one I’ve told.” Tobin shifted her weight uncomfortably, unhappy with where the conversation seemed to be headed. She sighed deeply, running a hand through her thick brown hair._

_"No,” Alex said slowly. "I mean. . . What about the distance? That’s a long way away. We wouldn’t be able to hang out anymore.”_

_"That’s not true. The Tarheels play the West Coast at times,” retorted Heath._

_"It’s entirely true,” Morgan nearly spat out._

_"Well. So what?”_

_Alex paused._ So what?

_Tobin continued. "Alex. Look at me. We can’t stay forever young. I love you to death—you’re my best friend—but I’ve prayed long and hard about my future for years, and since God has given me this gift, I feel like I need to use it. This is the best move for my career. I’ve been asking Him for a while now to give me a sign, and you and He both know how much I’ve always loved the Tarheels. This is the answer I’ve been waiting for.”_

_"But—"_

_"And,” Tobin cut her friend off, "you know what? He’s got a plan for you, too, 'Lex. He’s got a plan for me and a plan for you. And so far, here, playing for Diamond Bar High, our lives have been intertwined. But maybe this next step, I need to get out on my own and experience the world alone. And you can, too. You’ve already got scouts watching you, too, y'know. And if UNC wants you, then you can come and join me. But if they don’t, then maybe that’s not God’s plan for you.”_

_The young striker blinked, trying to process what her friend had just said. “But Toby. . . I don’t want you to go.”_

_“Who said this was about you?”_

_As soon as the words rolled sharply off Tobin’s tongue, Alex froze. She stared cold at the older girl, at her best friend. Did Tobin have no sympathy for her? Suddenly, her heart was like a pound of bricks in her chest, heavy-laden with guilt as she realized her mistake. This was no time to be selfish._

_Heath stood still for several beats before wrapping her arms around the forward and pulling her in close. On her shoulder she felt a sudden coldness. Then when it turned into a sudden coolness, she realized that they were tears._

_"We’ll be okay, 'Lex,” she whispered in the younger girl’s ear. "We’ll be okay.”_

 

* * *

 

   "I know, I know. . . You’ve spent a lot of time asking _God_ about _everything_ in your life, Tobs.” Tobin raised a quizzical eyebrow. "So tell me,” Alex continued sarcastically, “what did the Big Man have you eat for breakfast this morning?”

   Heath rolled her eyes. “I’ve improved a lot, training with the guys, too,” she added, changing the subject quickly.

   "Yeah, yeah.”

   "And I haven’t gotten injured out on the pitch. Could’ve been possible if I had played. Then there goes UNC.”

   "You could be injured just as easily with the boys, if not more so,” Alex stated accusingly. "And it’s not like North Carolina wouldn’t have taken you. They’d be foolish to drop one of the top prospects in the nation’s scholarship on an injury unless it’s something lifelong.” She paused. Placing the side of her balled-up right fist on Heath’s shoulder, she murmured, “You basically abandoned the gals.”

   "I helped the varsity team bring home State last year,” Tobin reminded her. As if Alex needed a reminder about last year. Capping off Tobin’s last year of high school ball as State winners would forever be one of Morgan’s fondest memories. "But we’re still pretty stacked this year.”

   "We’re currently 10-2 this year,” Alex sighed. She paused, thinking about tonight’s 2-0 defeat against a team they had picked up a sold 3-1 win over last year. Sure, they’d graduated nine seniors last year, seven of which were starters, but they had plenty of capable substitutes that were really stepping it up this year. Cat, Leslie, Kristine—they weren’t easy to replace. But Hope was filling up the goal nicely for Briana, Becky and Ali helping cover the back line, Carli and Lauren holding the midfield. . . And many younger players such as Whitney, Morgan, and Julie had excelled so far, ready whenever their name was called. The loss dug deep in Alex.

   "Tonight was a fluke,” Tobin waved off, having viewed the away-game on a livestream. “Still a chance for a repeat title. Losing a couple is good, y'know? Take you down a peg, make you work harder to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

   "I guess so,” the junior frowned. "But if you were still playing for us. . . Not just practicing with the guys. . ."

   Tobin just shrugged. Then, a curious smirk crossed her face. “They’ve also got their moments, y'know. I mean, it’s nothing compared to Ali’s princess moments, Pinoe’s wildness, or Kelley’s fails, but it’s definitely something in of itself. And they respect me, too, so it’s not like that’s a problem. They’re fun to hang out with.” She paused. “A lot of them talk about the girls’ team, too,” her smirk growing wider by the second.

   Alex raised one eyebrow. “About what?”

   "Oh, nothing,” Tobin mischievously withheld, forcing Alex to drag it out of her.

   "Come on, gossiping is cool between friends when we’re as tight as we are. Now tell me, Heath,” the younger girl complained, leaning into the older girl.

   "Well, I mean, there’s not much to say,” Tobin danced around the subject. A glare from Alex pressed her to continue. "Other than normal guy-talk. Some of it’s a little. . . Distasteful. . . But. . . Uh. . . Your name has been mentioned several times.” Her smirk was now a full smile.

   Alex’s eyes widened. “By whom?” she demanded to know.

   Tobin pulled back, knowing she had gained the forward’s total attention. She moved her hand to her lips and made a zipping motion.

   Alex wrapped her hand around Heath’s arm and squeezed tightly with anxiety. “Tobiiin,” she whined.

   "His name may have started with an _S_ ,” Tobin coyly clued.

   Alex’s jaw dropped. "Not Servando?”

   Tobin squinted. “I mean, _his_ name _does_ start with an _S_.” Morgan stared at her. “But then again, so does the name 'Steve.’ And the name 'Sam.’ And—”

   "What do they say?”

   "Oh, not much,” Tobin tried to sneakily play it off. “Just whenever some of them mention the gals, some of them’ll say some stuff and such. Like who they’re totally crushing on, for one.”

   "Oh really?” Alex inquired. "Um. . . Servando. . . does he… ?”

   "Undisclosable,” came the quick reply.

   "Tobiiin,” Alex moaned.

   The senior glanced at her watch and yawned, stretching her arms out dramatically. “It’s pretty late, 'Lex, shouldn’t we get some sleep?”

   "I slept on the hour-long bus ride coming home from the game earlier,” Alex said hurriedly. "Answer me!”

   "You might have, but I didn’t,” the midfielder retorted slyly. She reached over to the nightstand and pulled the chain on the light bulb. "Night, 'Lex!” she said. Tobin rolled over and pretended to snore.

   "I hate you, Tobin Heath,” Alex said under her breath, snuggling under the covers and turning the opposite direction.

   "Oh please. You love me.”

 _You’re right, again, Heath,_ Alex thought to herself. _I do love you._


	5. The Collegiate Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex Morgan and Tobin Heath’s friendship cannot be broken, and they intend to keep it that way—whatever the cost may be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Alex analyzes Tobin Heath.

**Adequately Concealed**  
**~Chapter 5~**  
**"The Collegiate Star"**

 

* * *

 

   The butterflies were abuzz once again in Alex Morgan, but not for the pre-game jitters as per usual. No, there was an entirely different cause today. Her high school career had ended back in October, falling to an equally-matched team in penalty kicks. It had been a valiant effort--each team was loaded with talent--but only one could go home winners, and unfortunately for Diamond Bar High, it wasn't them.

   Although Alex wasn't happy about ending her grade-school career with a loss, she certainly had a lot to look forward to following today. The striker would spend the rest of the spring working whatever miscellaneous jobs she could find to earn extra cash. Come June, Morgan would ship off to the University of California at Berkley, where she hoped to find soccer success in the next four years.

   The almost-eighteen-year-old had received offers from multiple schools that were well-known for their prestigious women's football teams, but after much debate, Berkley was determined to be the best choice. It was close to home yet still far enough away for the young forward to mature on her own, liberal-minded, and it was free, too. None of the other prospects could offer what U-Cal offered.

   Full of nervous energy, Alex pulled her gown farther up on her left shoulder and straightened her cap. The ceremony seemed to be moving at snail-pace. Right now, Morgan wanted to be anywhere else but sitting in this chair—drilling balls into the back of a net, studying for a test at home, or even at the dentist's office. This should be one of the most memorable, one of the sweetest times of her life. A time that she should cherish. Her parents, siblings, and grandparents were in the audience, clapping for every student, even though they only had one person to truly care about at this event. Still they applauded—louder than usual for Ashlyn Harris, Meghan Klingenberg, Ali Krieger, Sydney Leroux, and Carli Lloyd, all Alex’s teammates graduating, also. Finally, the two words they'd been waiting to hear rolled off the vice-principal's tongue.

   "Alex Morgan."

   The girl rose from her seat and strode to the front, following the boy in front of her. Ascending the steps, Alex crossed the stage toward the principal. Shaking hands and accepting her rolled-up diploma, she turned toward the crowd, smiled for the cameras, and exited the platform. There. It was all over. Her big moment of this four-hour ceremony. With another hundred graduates still awaiting their turns, Alex was tempted to tilt her head to the side and doze off once she returned to her seat. _Only for a few minutes,_ she told herself.

 

* * *

 

   "Hey, Morgan. Wake up."

   A slight jab to her shoulder caused Alex to wake with a jolt. Confused for a moment, she darted her eyes from side to side before remembering where she was.

   "Thanks," she mumbled to the boy sitting beside her. He nodded his head before returning his attention to the principal, who was standing at the podium entering the final part to his closing speech.

   ". . . That with great dedication and determination, these students will go far in their next stages of life, wherever that may be. Congratulations, Diamond Bar High's Class of 2007!"

   Like a swarm of bees, the entire class of graduates rose from their seats and tossed their caps high into the air. Still tired from her nap, Alex threw hers about eight feet high. After it found its way back on her head, she pushed her way through the crowd to track down her family and formally thank them for attending. However, she didn't quite make it. The striker found herself trapped where she was, her midsection being squeezed roughly, and tighter by the second. Petrified, Alex squirmed and wriggled, but it was to no avail.

   "Chill out, Baby Horse!" a familiar voice called out to her from behind.

   Upon hearing these words, Morgan instantly ceased her struggling. “Tobin?" she asked, turning her head as far as she could. The forward found the face of her best friend beaming back at her.

   "'Sup?"

   "Not much, but if you squeeze me any harder, I think toothpaste'll come out," Alex choked out sarcastically.

   Tobin's eyes widened as she immediately released her captive. Alex doubled-over on her knees, panting hard. She wasn't actually this desperate for air, but decided to worry the older girl. A smile crossed her face as she held up a hand, cutting off Tobin's rambling apology. Turning around abruptly, the striker flew into Tobin and wrapped her up in a sturdy embrace, not intending to let go any time soon. Heath let out an "Oof!" upon impact but soon returned the hug.

   "Geez, Tobs, you about killed me," Alex muttered. "Have you gotten that much stronger at UNC?"

   "Well, they've got a free-access weight room up there," Tobin stated a bit sheepishly. "That might play a part."

   "That's no fair," complained Alex. "I for-sure can't beat you in arm-wrestling, now."

   "Don't worry, I'm sure your new coach at U-Cal will be thrilled to see you utilizing their room," Tobin smirked.

   "You just wait, Heath," Alex threatened. She pulled back slightly to look at the older girl. "So what are you doing here, huh? Must've been a pretty long drive."

   "I wouldn't have missed this for the world," Tobin said.

   At this comment, the striker's heart warmed from deep inside her chest. It was silly, really, to think that when her best friend had departed, their connection would be lost. Tobin Heath was better than that. Nevertheless, the thought had haunted her for the past year, lingering when a week would pass without some form of communication between the two and fading with every videocall. The last time Alex had felt the midfielder around her was when they had said goodbye four months ago as Tobin left off for Carolina once again after her Christmas break. She missed the sensation dearly. Alex pulled the older girl in tighter and breathed in.

   "Thank you, Tobs," she whispered.

   " _Tobin Heath!_ "

   The two broke their soft embrace and turned to find the majority of the Diamond Bar High girls’ soccer team, plus a few alum, running toward them. Instantly, Tobin found herself holding in her arms one bundle of energy that was Kelley O'Hara, with Amy Rodriguez and Lauren Cheney also racing to meet the Tarheel. Excited with the reunion, the gals all hugged and smiled and laughed together. It wasn't long before Ali Krieger suggested a team lunch for all who were present so that everyone could catch up. The idea was met with great enthusiasm from everyone except Alex.

   Morgan sighed on the inside. She was happy and thankful for everyone who had come in support of their nine fellow teammates' high school graduation, but now that she had found Tobin, she just didn't want to give her up. It was selfish, she knew, that she didn't want to share her best friend, so she tried valiantly to bury the feeling. Luckily, the thoughts were forced from her when her family walked up. She turned toward her grandparents, thanking them for coming, then informed her parents that the team had decided to go out for lunch. When her family had departed and she turned back to the athletes, the former teammates had already concocted a plan.

   “To CiCi’s Pizza!” declared a bubbly Megan Rapinoe, heading for the parking lot, the rest of the group following.

   “Don’t forget about the party tonight,” the Morgans called after her, reminding her that the rest of her family were meeting at their house in celebration.

   “Gotcha,” affirmed Alex.

   Tobin turned to the striker. "Hey. Moe and I are riding with Cheney and A-Rod. We've got one extra seat. Wanna join?"

   Alex felt as if a wasp had inadvertently stung her. She knew that she had no right to be jealous, but for some reason, she was. The graduated senior had _just_ gotten her best friend back. There was so much that she wanted to talk about, but she was being forced to share Tobin with the other girls. _It's okay, really. It’s not like Tobin's not allowed to have other friends,_ she repeatedly told herself.

   "'Lex?"

   Tobin was leaning to the side, hands in her UNC hoodie pocket. Her face showed half confusion and half of a smile as the college girl stared at her, waiting for the younger one to respond. Alex snapped to attention when she heard that nickname, the one only Tobin called her. The word seemed to roll off the midfielder's tongue so naturally, the girl's voice so at-ease. It wasn't as if it had been nearly half a year since Morgan had heard it in the air.

   "Huh?"

   "I'm riding with Cheney, A-Rod, and Moe to CiCi's. Do you want to join?" Tobin asked while searching the brunette's face for any clue to her thoughts.

   "Uh, sure," Alex replied somberly.

   But if the striker was feeling downcast, the grin Heath immediately gave her lightened her mood. The five girls piled into Lauren’s car, Amy in the passenger seat with young Morgan Brian in between Tobin and Alex in the back. For the minute, everyone sat in an awkward silence. Amy fiddled with the air conditioning. Something felt out of place. They were all friends, weren’t they? To break the tension, Rodriguez asked the graduate if she was looking forward to college life, and, sure enough, the conversation soon shifted to soccer. The two oldest and Alex shared their excitement about playing in the Pac-12 together next season, while Tobin and Moe chatted about the latter’s decision to sign on at the University of Virginia. It wasn’t long before they all joined the rest of their group in the parking lot.

   “Ali, Ash, and Whit are putting tables together for us,” Crystal said upon greeting them.

   The soccer players strode into the eatery, the luscious smell of freshly-baked pizza hit their nostrils, causing them to inhale deeply. After paying their respective tickets, they formed a line for the buffet. Ashlyn waved the girls down, and the band took their seats once they had fixed their plates. Since the restaurant was about half-full, the teenagers had to talk above the din of the other patrons.

   “Kling, isn’t that, like, your sixth slice?” Christen asked with a look of concern.

   “Seventh, actually,” the defender replied, taking another bite. “But thanks for asking.”

   “I’ve had fourteen here before,” declared Pinoe.

   “And that was an hour before a game,” Ali muttered, sighing.

   “Gross,” Carli said under her breath.

   “That’s no big deal,” contested Sydney. “I once had seventeen and two bowls of pasta.”

   “Only seventeen?” Barnie asked with a smug smile, leaning back in her chair.

   “Fight, fight, fight!” Kelley chanted.

   Megan dropped her current slice on her plate and stabbed it with a poached fork from Tobin. “Let’s do this!”

   Kling rubbed her hands together. “Ha! You guys are going down.”

   The contestants plodded to the buffet line, loaded their plates, and refilled their cups.

   As Sydney struggled through her twentieth piece of pizza, Alex pushed her chair back from the table in disgust. “I can’t watch this,” she vocalized, covering her mouth.

   Tobin, who was sitting next to the striker, stood abruptly. “Maybe some fresh air would help,” she offered. Alex looked up at the winger’s cheeky grin and thanked her silently. Tobin held out her hand, and Alex took it with a smile. Tobin ushered her friend out the door. “We’ll be back,” she called over her shoulder.

   The parking lot offered a mild, mid-May, Californian breeze. Alex slumped her shoulders with relief, taking a seat on the curb with Tobin following suit. The forward crossed her legs, and Heath rested her elbows on her knees.

   After sitting in silence for several beats, Alex allowed herself a moment to glance over at her best friend. The midfielder’s smooth milky-brown hair cascaded over her right shoulder, a slight hump present on top where the part occurred, gently curling over part of her face. Her skin tone possessed the exact same soft tan that she distinctly recalled. Aside from the slightly bulkier build that could be credited to college athletics, Tobin hadn’t really changed that much in the past few months—that she could see, at least—and Alex was glad. And when Heath turned her head to her, she stared right back into those warm, hazel-colored eyes. The small smile that spread slowly across her face, which Alex mirrored, was exactly the same, too. The striker sighed comfortably.

   When Tobin quickly shifted her line of vision down to the pavement, taking unusual interest in a minuscule pebble, Alex’s smirk faded into one of concern. _Think of something, A-Morgs._

   “So, uh. . . do you like your teammates?” she managed.

   “They’re all right,” replied her friend, still staring at the ground. She paused. “Yeah, they’re growing on me. I mean, we’re cool. They’re nice. But I kind of miss my old ones.”

   Alex breathed in, dancing her way along the conversation, trying to be careful. Yes, she hadn’t changed physically, but something seemed amiss with Heath. The graduate started to say something, but suddenly Tobin bolted upright, startling her.

   “What’s wrong, Toby?” asked Alex, concerned now more than before.

   “Look over there,” the older girl responded.

   Alex squinted. “It’s just a squirrel. Do you want me to go get Kelley or something?”

   “No, no, silly,” reprimanded Tobin with a laugh. “Across the street. It’s the bowling alley.”

   “So?” Alex wondered quizzically.

   “Let’s go!” Tobin said with glee.

   “Uh. . .” _What?_ “Sure, if you want to.”

   “Great,” Tobin replied, smiling. “I’ll go tell the gals to meet us over there when they’re done with their pizza eating contest. Be right back.” She patted Alex on the shoulder and headed back into the restaurant, leaving Alex to her own thoughts.

 _This is too awkward_ , thought Alex. _Tobin and I are best buds. What’s up?_ Tobin returned post-haste. “A’ight, let’s go.”

   The two walked over to the road. Tobin made eye-contact with Alex, filling the younger girl with a sense of uncertainty. When Tobin looked down, Alex mimicked her and saw a hand outstretched for her to hold. Feeling as if she were jumping off a diving board, the striker took the plunge, placing her hand in Tobin’s. Heath’s strong grip closed over her, steady and reassuring. They crossed the street together, then broke the connection once they reached the doorstep of the bowling alley.

   “After you,” Tobin said, holding the door open for Alex.

   The duo walked up to the counter. “Uh, let’s see,” Tobin thought out loud. “I guess we’ll need four lanes, please.” The winger pulled her wallet out of her back pocket and handed the guy her card.

   “You’re paying for all of them?” Alex asked in surprise as the employee swiped it.

   “I came up with the idea,” Tobin shrugged off as he handed it back to her.

   “Well! I guess you’re the exception to ‘poor college kid’ then, huh?”

   Tobin grinned. “Not at all.”

   The two went to separate lanes for practice before going head-to-head. Alex won, Tobin following eleven points behind.

   “Strike!” Alex called with glee as the rest of their soccer friend walked in.

   “How about a two-vee-two tournament?” Tobin suggested, quickly changing the subject from Alex’s win. The rest of the girls concurred, pairing up. Alex immediately snagged Tobin’s arm, claiming her teammate.

   On Tobin’s turn, Alex left for the counter to buy herself a soft drink. Heath offered to pay, but Alex waved her off.

   “Thanks, Toby, but I think I can manage a drink,” she replied heartily. Alex turned back around, but instead of meeting air, she collided with another body.

   “Oh, I’m so sorry!” the boy said in surprise.

   “You’re fine,” replied Alex. When she lifted her head and flipped her hair back, she identified the young man as Servando Carrasco, her childhood friend who had also just graduated.

   “Here, let me pay for this,” he said, pulling out his wallet. His face clearly displayed distress, even as Alex beamed at him.

   “Oh, that’s sweet, Serv. . . but really, I’m fine.”

   “C’mon, Alex, it was my fault.” He walked up to the register, Alex in tow, and laid a five-dollar bill on the counter. Morgan shook her head, still smirking, and placed her order.

   “Alex, it’s your turn.”

   Alex whipped around to see Tobin shuffling up, thumbs resting casually on the edges of her jean pockets. The older girl was staring at Carrasco.

   “Oh! Great. Okay Serv, see ya around.”

   “Bye Alex,” he said softly, raising a hand in goodbye as Alex picked up her drink and the two girls walked away.

   For the rest of the night, Alex couldn’t throw for another spare to save her life. Her eyesight continuously wandered a few lanes over to Servando and his buddies, who appeared to be having a good time. But she let her glance wander for just seconds too long, once, and Servando immediately caught her looking. Blushing profusely, she shifted her gaze to her own lane briefly. When she moved it back to the boy, he gave her a wink.

   Unbeknownst to Alex, Tobin caught her side-eying Servando throughout the afternoon. She moved toward A-Rod and Cheney.

   “Hey, I think I’m ready to go when you guys are. Want to go see a movie or something?”

   Lauren needed but one look at her friend to know what was wrong and not to push it. “Sure thing,” the older girl said, nodding her head.

   Alex didn’t notice that the trio had left until they were a few feet from the door. She motioned a goodbye to Servando before taking off. Into the parking lot she ran, but the forward got there just in time to see A-Rod pulling out. Curious and dejected, she slunk back indoors.

   “Hey, Kels, can you take me home?” she asked quietly.

   O’Hara searched her friend’s distraught face for a clue, which she didn’t get, before nodding. “Sure,” she replied.

   The drive home was quiet, Kelley’s car radio turned up at a minimal level playing pop hits that neither of them felt quite like jamming out to. When they pulled into Alex’s driveway, Kelley paused.

   “You okay?” she asked concernedly.

   “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Alex tossed her purse on her bed. “You wanna hang out until my family comes over?”

   Kelley checked her phone. “Actually, Hope and I were planning on going clothes shopping,” she said sulkily, knowing that Alex desperately needed some company right now. “I guess you could come with us?”

   Alex shook her head, shrugging. “That’s fine. See ya.”

   O’Hara pursed her lips. “Later, then?”

   “Sure,” Alex said, heading toward the porch as Kelley pulled out of the driveway. The youngest Morgan sauntered to her room and quickly changed into exercise clothes, withdrawing a pair of headphones from her duffel bag on her way out.

   “If Mom and Dad ask, I went for a jog,” she informed Jeri as she passed her sister.

   Jeri cocked an eyebrow. “I didn’t think you liked running,” she said.

   “I don’t,” replied Alex. Closing the front door behind her, she descended the porch step and took a deep breath before embarking on a two-hour-long run.


	6. The Best Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex Morgan and Tobin Heath’s friendship cannot be broken, and they intend to keep it that way—whatever the cost may be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Alex loves Tobin Heath.

**Adequately Concealed**  
**~Chapter 6~**  
**“The Best Friend”**

    

* * *

    

   In 2006, passion found opportunity.

   Although she had not been in Russia with them, Alex’s eyes had been not-so-inconspicuously glued to the screen of her phone during each match while sitting in classes and walking the school hallways. All her teachers pretended to turn a blind eye toward the illegal activity, for which she was grateful. Watching the play unfold as it occurred allowed her some sense of being with her friends. Alongside her best friend, Lauren, Amy, Allie, and Kelley had all been called up to play the World Cup, too. Alex had watched her friends play their game as the United States defeated their first three opponents. Winning their group, Team USA had advanced in their quest. With a convincing 4-1 quarterfinal win against Germany, they had advanced to the semifinals. After the match had ended and the team had settled back into their hotel, Alex had been able to videochat with her teammates and share in their joy.

   “KO!” she had shouted at her laptop that Sunday afternoon in California following their win against Germany. “Where are you, you goal-scorer!”

   Tobin had laughed, then moved her phone’s camera around the hotel’s conference room until O’Hara had moved into frame. The striker, still full of energy even after the match, had bounded toward Alex’s pixelated image upon hearing her name. Flashing a wide grin, Kelley had double fist-pumped and shouted an enthusiastic, “Whoo!”

   With the hand not holding the camera, Tobin had mirrored her friend’s festivities. The camera had shaken wildly, threatening to fall from Tobin’s grasp as the other girls in the room had celebrated their first win of the tournament.  Amy Rodriguez had run up to Tobin and enveloped her in a bear hug, picking the tan midfielder up off the ground in the process.

   “A-Rod, way to go!” Alex had yelled to one of the other two goal-scorers, who replied with an elated, “Thanks!”

   Soon, Coach Tim had walked into the room and called for the girls to sit for a short team meeting to map-out the next few days before the semifinals against China.

   “Gotta go, ‘Lex,” Tobin had said. “I’ll catch ya later, okay?”

   “Good luck, Toby!” had come the reply.

   Heath had blushed at the nickname she hated as the room quieted down. “It’s got nothing to do with luck,” she had said with a smirk. When she gave a quick point to the sky, Alex had rolled her eyes. “But thanks anyway.” At that, the midfielder had ended the call.

   Back in America, Alex had smiled and shaken her head, thinking affectionately about her friend.

   The semifinal against China had proven more difficult than anticipated. Alex had sat on the floor early that Thursday morning in California, leaning against the side of her bed with her computer in her lap and her head in her hands. With a 0-0 score-line at the end of regulation time, the match had spilled over into extra time. The junior’s nails had been getting shorter by the second as she watched her friends play their hearts out.

   When the final whistle had blown and it was announced that the match would be decided by penalty kicks, she had been a flurry of emotions. Penalty kicks were a two-edged sword. They brought feelings of both relief and worry, placing an enormous amount of pressure on those involved. Alex was glad that she had never been required to take one, and certainly happy that she wasn’t in their spot now. Silently she had watched as both teams had knocked in each of their first four shots, then missed their fifth. Once the China player had nailed the ball into the back of the net, the pressure had been on for the next shooter from Team USA, who just so happened to be Lauren Cheney.

   “You’ve got this, Cheney,” Alex had whispered with folded hands from her spot on her bedroom floor.

   The soccer player had sat the ball down tenderly, took her steps back, and rushed forward. Her foot had found contact, and the ball had soared through the air. But it had been off the mark. China had won the match and advanced to the finals. The U.S. would vie for third place in a few short days against Brazil. Her heart had fallen for her teammates, whom she knew would be devastated.

   Alex had called during her lunch break at school, but received no answer. When school had ended and she videocalled, it was two in the morning in Moscow, but she didn’t think about this until it was ringing. She had contemplated hanging up, but right as she was about to press the button, a familiar face had appeared on the screen.

   “Hey there,” the voice had said. “Tired” had been written all over her face, and her eyelids had drooped. Evidence of a teary night had been clear to see.

   Alex had flashed a half-hearted grin to the girl.

   “Hey.”

   There had been a pause on the line.

   “We lost.”

   More silence.

   “I’m sorry.”

   Tobin had inhaled deeply and didn’t say anything for a while. The two had just sat and stared off into opposite directions for a couple of minutes before Tobin exhaled loudly. “It’s fine. I guess it just wasn’t meant to be this time around.”

   “You’ve still got third place to play for,” Alex had said, trying to smile despite the tough loss.

   “Yeah.” Tobin had looked over to the bed next to her. The nightstand lamp had been on, but her roommate was asleep. Or rather, she had been. The girl had opened her eyes to squint briefly at Tobin and the person on the other line of the video call, then rolled over and sighed. Alex had frowned.

   “I’m sorry, Tobs. You played a great game.”

   A loud sigh had been her only reply, followed by short silence.

   “Hey, I forgot to tell you. Your ball trick video’s eclipsed five thousand views already.”

   “Oh really? How many of those were from you?”

   Morgan had seen a slight smile taking form. “No telling.”

    

   ~~~~

    

   That fall, Alex had taken her official visits to determine where she would spend the next four years of her life. It had been a big choice to make, but she had been able to narrow it down to only California schools, electing to remain in her home state. She had thought that it would be much, much tougher of a decision, but it turned out a lot easier than expected. When the pair had traveled to Stanford, Kelley had fallen in love, but Alex hadn’t felt like it was for her. At the University of California at Berkeley, the college had carried the exact opposite effect. The shorter of the two had immediately detected this. Each had known where they would ultimately end up without so much as a second glance. The exciting part was telling the rest of the world.

   Tobin had been nothing but supportive, and it had partially broken Alex, for she recalled precisely how she had reacted to Tobin’s announcement. When she had told her this much, the midfielder had merely laughed and drawn her closer in their embrace.

   “You had every right to be upset, Al,” she had replied.

   Alex had sniffled. “No, no, no. I was being selfish. Why aren’t you?” the striker had asked into Tobin’s shoulder.

   “Because I know this isn’t the end,” Heath had stated plainly, patting her friend’s back lightly. “It’s just four years, Alex. We’ll be back to playing together in no time, and then we’ll be able to hang out whenever we want to.”

   Alex had pulled back slightly to shoot her a curious look. “There’s not a professional league anymore.”

   “Who said anything about the pros? I’m talking the big league, ‘Lex–the national team! Who needs a cheap trophy when you can get real gold?” Tobin had wiggled her eyebrows.

   “You’re crazy, Heath.”

   “Oh, you know it’ll happen,” the winger had said, smirking. “Mark my words. We’ll be on that podium together some day. You and me, kiddo, on top of the world.”

    

* * *

    

   In 2008, opportunity developed dreams.

   The early morning sun had seeped through her almost-closed curtains in such a way that the elongated sliver of light it produced fell right on Alex’s nose and trailed down the rest of her body lying cozily underneath the warmth of the covers, brightening her features ever so slightly. With the ceiling fan whirring above to cool the mid-July  heat, it had been nearly impossible for the deeply sleeping striker to awaken to the sounds of the door to her bedroom cracking open and the subtle snickering that followed.

   That is, until the one doing the snickering had Superman launched themselves onto her peaceful form.

   Immediately Alex had shot up with a yelp, shoving the unidentified body off of her bed with enough force to displace a large fish tank. It had landed on the carpet with a sickening “thud.”

   “Geez Louise, ‘Lex!” had been the muffled groans of agony. Morgan had stared at the figure clad in a familiar-looking hoodie and sweatpants, and although it had been earlier than she liked waking up, it hadn’t taken long to determine who her intruder was.

   “Tobin Powell Heath, what in the hell–!”

   The midfielder had flipped over onto her back and beamed back up at Alex. “Last I checked, this was the bedroom of Cal-Berkley star striker, U.S. Women’s National Team U-20 phenom, and _really_ good pancake baker Alex Morgan. _Not_ Hell.” She had reached for her back, wiggling her shoulder as if in pain. A sly grin had crept across her face. “You’ve been working out, haven’t you?”

   At first, Alex had considered dismissing the girl’s appearance and going back to sleep in the hopes that she wouldn’t be there when she woke up again, but one glance at that million-dollar smile had been all Morgan needed to convince her that her best friend wasn’t resting in New Jersey or on a plane to China for the Olympics but on her bedroom floor. Sleepily she had rubbed her eyes as they adjusted to the light.

   “Did you say pancakes? If so, you’re in the wrong room.”

   “I know! The pancake mix is in there,” Heath had replied jubilantly, pointing to the kitchen, “so get a move-on, will ya? I’m starving.”

   Yawning widely, Alex had cocked her head and checked her alarm clock, which had just ticked over to nine o’clock, meaning her friend’s plane must have left before the crack of dawn. Weighing this against Tobin’s polite way of asking for food, she had sent her a stone-cold glare. “You get Pop-Tarts.”

   The two had crept their way into the kitchen and broke out the sugary treat that wasn’t necessarily meant for breakfast, microwaving the chocolate chip toaster pastries for exactly twenty-one seconds because “that’s the only true way to eat them.” After pouring two coffee mugs of lemon-lime Gatorade, they had made themselves comfortable on the couch in the living room, Alex plopping herself onto the middle of the sectional and Tobin draping herself across one end, head tipped back over the arm.

   Nibbling on her Pop-Tarts and simultaneously littering dozens of miniscule off-white crumbs that Alex was certain her mom would have her head for, Tobin had begun to scan the walls lazily, ensuring that nothing had changed since her most recent visit to the Morgan residence last summer. A cluttered shelf next to the television proudly had displayed the youngest Morgan’s many accomplishments–a picture of a fourth-grade Alex in a basketball jersey in its flimsy cardboard frame with signatures from teammates, a sixth-grade softball runners-up trophy, their middle school championship-winning team picture. And, resting alongside their high school state-champions team picture framed carefully with medal draped across the corner, a new picture, not yet in a frame, its accompanying gold medal lying flat. A broad, toothy smile had depicted the pure excitement and ecstasy that Alex had felt wearing her country’s crest. With Hat-Trick O’Hara flanking her, Alex had certainly enjoyed her first international goal at the U-20 level during CONCACAF.

    After at least two minutes of silently staring, Alex had cleared her throat.

   “I thought your plane didn’t leave until the twenty-third? Why aren’t you in New Jersey with your family? And how did you even get in?” the younger had inquired.

   “It doesn’t, I was, and your mom put a key under the mat for me,” Heath had answered shortly, smirking.

   Face crinkling at her friend spread out across her sofa, Alex had shut her eyes and rubbed her temples, sighing audibly to express her annoyance. It hadn’t worked, though, because she had reopened them only to observe Tobin still focused intensely on her, the smug look ever-present. Traces of fresh sunlight peaking through the mini-blinds had danced on the midfielder’s well-tanned skin, highlighting her already-alight features. Morgan had shaken her head in an attempt to shake off the budding smile forming on her lips, but the gesture only encouraged it. Tobin had laughed, reading her best friend like an open-book.

   “Admit it, you’re elated.”

   Alex had shrugged. “Didn’t say I wasn’t.”

   “So, what’s on the agenda?” Tobin had asked, dismissing her friend’s obvious excitement at their reunion. “Out to the pitch? Homework? Ice cream?”

   “Actually, Monday’s my lazy day,” had come the casual retort.

   If Tobin’s grin had faltered, it certainly hadn’t been visible. “That sounds pretty good to me,” she had said, suddenly sitting up and sliding over to Morgan to nestle into the younger girl’s side. “Sounds pretty good to me.”

    

* * *

    

   In 2010, dreams spawned effort.

   “That’s–” she had yawned, “–that’s great, ‘Lex. Awesome. . .”

   Alex had known she was losing her for more than ten minutes now. _Stay on the line, stay on the line,_ she had thought furiously. “Yeah! It’s already done wonders for me,” she continued.

   “That’s nice.”

   “Yeah. . . Hey! You should try it sometime.”

   “Yoga? Al’, I don’t know if you know this or not, but I’m not–” she had yawned again, “–not in the best of shape at the moment.”

   “Well I know that, silly,” Alex had scoffed, grinning so broadly in the dark that the light shining from the street lamps reflected off her toothy smile. “I mean, when you get better.”

   “Sure, sure,” Heath had sighed reluctantly through the phone. “Maybe we can try it together sometime. Maybe when I get better, back up to the National Team. Barnie’s a big yogi, we’ll join her group.”

   “Perfect.”

   “Cool.”

   Silence.

   Another yawn.

   “Hey, I think I really need to get some sle–”

   “Did I tell you I ended up with an A in Macroeconomics?” Morgan had interrupted her, knowing what was intended to be on the tail-end of her friend’s sentence.

   “Nice.”

   As soon as Alex had felt the car come to a slow halt and allowed her to climb out, she bit her lip in attempt to conceal her excitement.

   “Thank you!” she had whispered to the Uber driver, handing her three crisp twenty dollar bills. “Keep the change.”

   “Who was that?” the voice on the line had asked sleepily as the car turned away and left her in the quiet of the night, her body illuminated by the pair of fancy lamps on either side of the wrought-iron gate. She had stood her suitcase up and tossed her backpack over the brick wall before proceeding to scale it, thankful that a stray penalty kick from her friend had destroyed the home’s security system years ago.

   “Oh, nobody,” Alex had managed in broken breaths from the physical exertion required to sneak over the fence, laying stomach-down along the coarse cinder. “Hey, can I ask you a favor?”

   “I don’t know, can you? Last I checked, you already cashed all yours in for this year.”

   “Ha ha, Heath. Actually, the last one didn’t count. It was Kelley who was sneaking the Oreos past Dawn. I just helped.”

   “Then why did she sneak them into our room?”

   “Well, I was helping her hide them, too.”

   “No, she came back and tore through my suitcase until she found them, with two and half rows missing that you _helped_ eat. And that’s when Dawn decided to walk in.”

   “Oh, please.” Alex had paused, trying to yank her luggage over the wall. “Your suitcase was already a mess.”

   Too much momentum and a few seconds later had rendered the striker flat on her back and the suitcase barely off the the side. Thankfully, the grass had been dense enough and she had landed initially on her backside, avoiding a potentially nasty spinal cord break. “Oof!”

   “What was that?” Tobin had asked, a sudden sense of urgency and concern apparent in her voice.

   Morgan had held her phone off to the side to groan loudly before returning it to her head. “Nothing. Just, look out the window.”

   “What?” The concern shifted to wariness.

   “Tobin, get off your damn couch and look to the side of the driveway, right next to the fence.”

   Several beats later, Alex had looked up across the lawn and watched a growing beam of light flood out into the yard before tossing her backpack a few feet in the air. The sound of crutches meeting the pavement had echoed through the night, the redundant “click, click, click” getting increasingly louder. She had thrown her arm straight up before wearily letting it fall back down.

   “ _Alex?!_ ”

    

   ~~~~

    

   With an agonizing back ache, Alex had laid as comfortably as possible on her friend’s bed, hands crossed atop her chest, eyes closed, listening to the older girl. Tobin, sitting opposite Alex in her reading chair in the corner with crutches propped against the side, had mindlessly strummed her guitar, half-heartedly working on the chords to a “classic” by Hillsong.

   “I’m scared,” Alex had admitted to her friend.

   “Of?” Tobin had inquired passively, checking her finger positioning.

   “I don’t know. . .” had come the reply, followed by a long, drawn-out sigh. “I mean. . . What if. . . What if I don’t make it?”

   A simple “Hmm” was the only response she had elicited as the winger had continued to play. “Oh, lead. . . No. . .” She had moved her fingers. “Oh, lead me. . .”

   “I mean, I’ve only capped once,” Alex had continued. “I dropped out of January Camp early. There’s only so many more camps before CONCACAF in October. It’s May! There’s only, like, four months until qualifiers. And I have school! What if I don’t make it? What if I get cut? What about the World Cup?”

   “To your heart. . .”

   Unhappy with her friend’s apparent disinterest in her, the forward had propped herself up on her elbows and peered over at Tobin.

   “Lead me to your heart. . .”

   “Tobin!”

   The music stopped as the older one had snapped back into focus.

   “I don’t see what the problem is, ‘Lex,” she had stated plainly.

   “Are you joking me?”

   “You’ve been hanging around O’Hara too much.”

   Alex had waved her off. “No, really. My career is on the line here, Tobin, and you’re just sitting there strumming away and don’t see the problem? We all know you’re a lock, as long as you get that–” She had gestured to Tobin’s right ankle, “–taken care of in time. Heck, you won’t even have to make it to qualifiers and you’ll still be a lock. Pia loves you.”

   Tobin had looked up. “You don’t think Pia loves you?”

   “I don’t know,” Alex had replied softly.

   The midfielder’s face had solidified. “Then you listen to me, Morgan. Don’t listen to the press, don’t read the articles, don’t talk to the other players. Listen to me and me only. You’re special. I’ve never seen anyone, striker or otherwise, with your type of speed and shot. All you do is score, for crying out loud! You’re talented. Furthermore, you’re blessed. And if Pia can’t see that, then she’s as blind as a referee. Then you get your butt out there and work so she can’t tell you ‘No’ in twenty-twelve. Got it?”

   “But–”

   “No, no ‘but’s. You won’t make it in the soccer world with those.” She had paused. “You’re going first round next year in WPS, probably first overall if anyone knew what was good for them, and you’re going to crush it regardless of whether you make it to this World Cup team or not. And when we’re on the podium together in London, you can look back at this conversation and say, ‘Tobin, oh, Tobin, you were so right. How ever could I have doubted you? You’re the greatest best friend someone could ever have.’”

   By now, both their faces had been alight with smiles. Tobin had laid her guitar down, gotten up, and hobbled over to the bed, plopping herself down right next to the striker.

   “But let’s not give her a reason this year, huh?”

   And so, after two almost unbearably achy nights and one day spent lounging and snacking and wondering what the future would hold for her, Alex had finally mustered up enough energy to drag herself out to the pitch. Tobin, only able to rely on one of the two legs God blessed her with, had been adamant about accompanying the younger girl, though her ankle hurt much worse than she would ever let on.

   “It’s fine, ‘Lex! I’ll just shag balls.”

   Of course, Tobin had known that she needed the touches on the ball just as much as Alex, especially if she were to neglect the dreaded reconstructive surgery. Morgan would be headed to a mini-camp with the national team prior to their friendly against Germany and wanted to keep her confidence intact going into training; Heath wanted to rebuild hers.

   So the morning before Alex’s departure for Ohio had found the dynamic duo back on the turf together for one of the first times since their high school days, when they had played for Diamond Bar. Phone calls, text messages, and emails had been frequent since then; face-to-face reunions had not been. Ignoring the doctor’s orders to stay off the bad ankle, Tobin had, of course, slowly worked her way into nearly all of Alex’s drills, just at a slower pace. And as she had slowly worked her way into Alex’s drills, she had also slowly worked her way into Alex’s head.

   “Come ooooon, Morgan,” she had drawn out, “you should know by now that you can’t go through me. Even with me on crutches you’re not ‘megging me.”

   “Says who?” had come the haughty response, succeeded quickly by a drag-back and tap with the outside of the other foot.

   Heath had simply placed all her weight on her left foot and moved her right crutch to block the attempted nutmeg from occurring.

   “You’ll have to do a little better than that,” the older one had taunted. “I know you can’t beat me when I’m full-strength, but you should still be able to make a move around a one-footed me. What ever will Pia think of you if you can’t shake a half-defender?”

   At that moment, full of adrenaline and seeping with ire, Alex had thrown a couple of step-overs on Heath before cutting it over with her dominant foot and chasing swiftly.  Tobin, still partially incapacitated, had tried to follow, but as soon as she had arrived, the forward had already pulled the trigger. The ball had flown through the air with surprising speed, passing in between the midfielder’s legs and stopping only after pulling all the slack from the back of the net.

   “I feel like she’d’ve liked that.”

    

* * *

    

   In 2012, effort generated results.

   Tobin had fumbled with the room key for at least twenty seconds, digging it out of her pocket and swiping it this way and that and jiggling the handle repeatedly before the green light had finally flashed. Alex had giggled behind her, good-naturedly jeering at her friend.

   “Tobin Heath, two-time Olympic Gold Medalist, can’t even unlock a hotel room door.”

   Once the lock had released and the winger shoved it in, the two had all but tumbled inside, having consumed more alcohol than they had cared to keep track of. Needless to say, they had been a little tipsy. No, not nearly as slammed as Pinoe and Leroux, for example, but as Olympic Gold Medalists, they had been supplied with free drinks, and the team almost entirely in unison had wordlessly decided to make up for their lack of celebration at the end of the previous year’s tournament. The result for the midfielder and forward had been shuffling up to bed at four in the morning in the hopes that they might get a little shut-eye before moving into the Olympic Village and making media appearances the next day.

   Immediately, Tobin had headed straight for her bed and collapsed on it, absolutely worn out from the partying. Alex had slung her backpack into the far corner and dragged herself over to the older girl to take her backpack. Tobin had been unresponsive to Alex’s aid but turned her head when the forward landed on the same bed rather than her own. The grin on her face hadn’t been forced in the least. After several minutes of just laying there, eyes partially open and just staring at each other, the forward had broken the silence with a simple snort.

   “What was that for?” Tobin had asked, a smile playing on the edges of her lips.

   “Do you remember a couple of years ago when I was worried that something might happen and I’d get cut from the national team, pretty much ending my career?”

   Tobin had laughed, now understanding the joke. “Do I?”

   “I was legitimately worried there for a while. And then you said there was no way in Hell I’d get cut, right?”

   “I think it was ‘No way on God’s green earth,’ but yeah, let’s go with that.”

   “Same difference. But you, like always, came to my rescue.” Alex had sighed deeply, shifting her head on Tobin’s pillow to sink in even further.

   “I like where this is going,” Tobin had said to her, beaming with pride. “Tell me more.”

   “You were there for me. You cared for me. You believed in me. Every time. And you were right.”

   “Bing bing bing, we have a winner!” the winger had exclaimed.

   “Oh, don’t let it get to your head,” Alex had scoffed. “But, moral to the story. I don’t know where I’d be without you, Tobs. Certainly not here. And I’ve never really said it properly, so. . . Thanks.”

   In response, Tobin had just peered at the younger girl for a while before eventually slinging an arm over her friend’s back, drawing her in just a little closer. The alcohol on their breaths was faint but still present. Without noticing it, Alex had apparently scooted ever so slightly closer to the other warm body on top of the bed. She had thought about the electric touch she always felt when in contact with Heath and subconsciously decided that she wanted to feel that now. They had been inches away before Alex’s phone had beeped several times in succession from the corner, effectively ending the moment and bringing Alex’s attention back to the present.

   She had blinked a few times before easing herself up and off the bed, close to rolling off but just enough to maintain her pride, and could have sworn that she had seen a flash of disappointment in Tobin’s eyes as the distance between them grew.

   “It’s Serv,” she had stated quietly as she unlocked her phone. “Poor guy, he’s been up for hours now waiting for me to return his call.”

   Tobin had nodded at her. Yes, understanding had been clearly etched into her face, but Alex had also been able to detect the slightly downcast appearance. “You should call him back.”

   Alex had flashed a somewhat apologetic smile at her friend before heading to the bathroom and its small bit of privacy to converse. She had received texts from and texted her family, but surprisingly, the former star from their college’s men’s team and childhood friend had been the only one to actually call. Feeling as though she owed him a real conversation, hopefully brief but there had been no telling, for the multiple voicemails and texts she’d dismissed all throughout the night, she had found his name under contacts and pressed “Call.” Three rings had been all she had had to wait through before hearing his soft, welcoming, jubilant voice that sounded just like home.

   “Alex!”

   “Hey, Babe,” she had said with a smile as the door closed behind her.

   No less than thirty minutes later, Alex had at last exited the bathroom to return to Tobin. Then she had taken notice of the covers draped over the older girl, who had been turned towards the wall.

   “Tobs?” she had whispered meekly, hopefully.

   There had been no response.

    

* * *

    

   In 2014, results preceded joy.


	7. The Newly Wed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex Morgan and Tobin Heath’s friendship cannot be broken, and they intend to keep it that way—whatever the cost may be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Alex loses Tobin Heath.

**Adequately Concealed**  
**~Chapter 7~**  
**“The Newlywed”**

 

* * *

 

   Her smile is one of the brightest I’ve ever seen. It lights up the darkest corners of the room, touching everyone softly, tenderly, and you can do nothing but return the look. Even if you don’t feel like it, you do it anyway because if you don’t, her smile will fade. And that can’t happen, because she deserves to be happy. So you’ll do anything to keep it there.

   It’s with that smile that she stares up into her father’s face. He’s heartbroken, but he knows, just as I do, to smile back at his beaming daughter, who’s no longer his little princess but now a fully-grown, married woman. It’s a tough task to deal with, so I know how relieved he must be when the song ends and he lets go of her. What’s upsetting is that the moment he secures relief, my nightmare begins.

   Still grinning broadly, she skips towards me as much as her high-heels allow, dazzling as ever in her custom designer dress that I’m sure the media will be fawning over for years to come. I take a long sip of my drink, knowing she’s not going to be denied whatever it is she wants and thinking that alcohol might do my system some good right about now. It looks like I’m right, too, because when I look up she’s holding her hand out to me.

   “Aw, you know I hate dancing,” I complain, mirroring her expression all the while. As if I’m not already uncomfortable in this environment, in these clothes.

   “I know you do, but it’s my night, so just do it for me, okay?” Her bottom lip juts out slightly, pleading eyes knitting together.

   I shake my head and give her my hand, allowing her to pull me up and out a few yards until we’re in the midst of the partying crowd. She grabs one of my hands and puts it on her waist, grasping my other and places her remaining hand on my shoulder. My eyes follow her movements before locking with hers. Her persistent smile cracks my unsteady feelings, and soon I feel as lighthearted as I look. Across the room I see Ashlyn swaying with Ali, Abby tapping to the beat with Sarah, and Sydney jigging with Kelley. The familiar sight of my friends calms me slightly. As we move with the music, I loosen up a little bit. Then, she starts talking.

   “Am I making a mistake?”

   To say I’m taken aback would be quite the understatement. A million different responses run through my head all at once, most of them including slapping my best friend silly. But that probably wouldn’t be appropriate, and I highly doubt she’d appreciate a red mark across her cheek for the next hundred pictures. So I opt to take the safe route. “Why do you think that?”

   She heaves a sigh, tilting her head slightly before beginning her anecdote. “Well, on Sunday I asked him to pick up a few things from the grocery store while he was out, including milk.”

   “One percent,” I interject, well aware of my friend’s strict diet.

   “Yeah! I tell him every time, one percent. But he got two percent, _again_.”

   I cock an eyebrow at her. “Gee, sounds like a _real_ problem you got there.”

   She laughs. She laughs, and Good Lord, it’s a laugh that could kill a man. Soft, with eyes gently closed, lips slightly stretched. “He folds our socks wrong, too,” she says through her muffled giggling.

   Chuckling along with her, I spend the moment taking her in: her easy smile, her quiet laugh, her milky-brown hair, her piercing blue eyes, her breathtaking beauty. My face falls, matching the heart that drops in my chest. “If that’s all that’s wrong with the guy, then you’re a very lucky gal.” I pause before continuing. “Everyone makes mistakes. Only Jesus is perfect.”

   Her sweet smile slowly fades, eyes dropping. She goes quiet, and I let her mull over her thoughts as we ease back and forth to the music. The movements felt awkward at first, holding my best friend like this, but I’ve slowly relaxed. Not stiffening at the contact but melting into it.

   “He’s being traded.” I have to strain to hear the whispered words. “Sporting Kansas City.”

   The look of delight that floods my face is not forced. He’s a good player, but not vital to the Houston Dynamo. He deserves the chance to prove himself on a new team, and if Sporting Kansas City were showing interest in him, then he might just receive that chance.

   “That’s great!” I say genuinely.

   “They _were_ going to cut him.”

   Her downward gaze at the floor hardens, and if she stares any longer, I’m sure there’s going to be a hole there. Before I can comment, she interrupts me.

   “Want to know when I found out?” She turns her eyes up, giving me a cold, callous stare. It’s obviously a rhetorical question. “Last night. When he was taking a shower and left his phone out on the counter. It was a text message. ‘Found you a spot on Sporting KC’ it said.”

   She sighs heavily before pulling the hand at my side towards her, laying it gingerly on her other hip, the puffy material of her dress coarse against the light touch of my fingertips, and placing her own on my other shoulder.

   My mouth goes dry. Words can’t find their way out. I want to comfort her, to tell her that it was just a mistake that he didn’t inform her, that he was going to tell her soon, but I can’t. In fact, I can hardly hear myself think over the vigorous thumping in my chest.

   Then, she lays her head on my shoulder, so close that I can feel her warm breath on my neck. As our movements slow, my thoughts return to me in a flurry.

 _Tobin. Tobin, no. No, you can’t. You can’t do this. Not today, of all days._ Why _today? Tobin, get her off of you. Tobin, leave._

   “Should he have kept this a secret?” she mumbles.

   Everything’s mechanical, now. I don’t have control over my thoughts or my actions; it feels like someone else is controlling me. “Some things are meant to be kept a secret. To avoid hurting the other person or people involved.”

   “And this? Would this have hurt me?”

   I pause again, praying I don’t fumble with my responses. The mood grows somber, grows quiet as I contemplate what I need to say, what she needs to hear. “No. But he thought he was right. It was. . . A mistake.” While she’s silent, I reiterate my previous statement. “Everyone makes mistakes.”

   She only nods her head, slowly, contemplating my comments, soaking them in like a sponge. Apprehension clouds her features, her face screwing up as if she’s intrigued by a sudden thought, radio silence between us and tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. My temperature's rising steadily with the contact of skin and even through the straps on my own dress where her hands lie.

   “You know, I haven’t been completely honest with you, either,” she finally yields.

   I gasp dramatically, attempting to lighten the mood. “So you _did_ eat that last doughnut of mine!”

   She laughs into my shoulder, picking her head up to slap me lightly. “I swear that was Allie!” She hesitates. “No, this is different. . . You know, he’s the best for me. He really loves me. I can see it in his expression when I walk into the room. Every time. It’s always been that way. In the way he holds me. When we talk to each other, seriously and just for fun. He cares. And I really do love him, despite the mistakes, big and little. I have no regrets about marrying him. But, still. . .”

   I nod my head, prompting her to continue her spiel of appreciation of her new husband.

   But her response is not one of words. Instead, she stares into my eyes with a gaze I’ve never seen before for just a beat before shutting them, leaning in, and kissing me. For a second I step into it, my eyes closing and my lips meeting hers.

   Time freezes. Her lips are smooth and warm, sending an electric current pulsating throughout my being. In an automatic response, my hands apply just a little more pressure on her waist as hers do on my shoulders. It’s everything I’d always pictured it’d be. The thought of this transpiring didn’t occur at random one day; it had been shaped and perfected through the many, many years of our friendship.

   It had also been protected. Never in all those years had I imagined that I would ever actually have the opportunity to experience this sensation, and now that I am, it feels wrong. As soon as I realize what’s happening, I immediately withdraw.

   “That’s my secret,” she whispers.

   My eyes flash open, searching hers. Adrenaline courses through my veins like a child caught stealing cookies; my heart beats faster than it ever has on the pitch.

   “Everyone makes mistakes. So, did I?”

   “I, um. . .” I stammer, trying to process what just occurred and her question.

   “In keeping this a secret from you. To avoid hurting you. Was it a mistake?”

   As the song finally comes to an end, I see him across the room bring his mother into a strong embrace, only grins lighting their faces. He’s still beaming when he releases her, making his way back towards his new wife. In my opinion, his smile doesn’t light up the room. It doesn’t touch everyone. It doesn’t force an equal response. It isn’t nearly as big as hers.

   But it’s big enough.

   I swallow hard.

   “Some things are meant to be kept a secret,” I answer solemnly. Brushing her hair back and tucking it behind her ear, I plant the lightest of kisses on Alex’s forehead, our second and last, before nodding at Servando and departing.

   Back turned, I walk away from the happy couple tenderly clutching each other while swaying to Jack Johnson, an overwhelming sense of emptiness burning within. All of my questions die as I step off that dance floor, the last of them softly taunting me, torturing me because I finally know its answer. I finally know its answer after countless sleepless nights spent hoping, wondering, praying that I had kept my unwavering love for my best friend adequately concealed.


End file.
